


Reborn

by Aqualight



Series: Reborn [1]
Category: Victoria (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Marriage, Rebirth, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:55:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26868502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aqualight/pseuds/Aqualight
Summary: Victoria went through her life, 63 years of reign. The Grandmother of Europe. That history was written from the moment she was born, because as a mortal, one always had to live through unbearable foolishness only to gain little wisdom in old age. So she lived then died, full of hindsight. Now she is offered a chance to restart all over again, at the fateful morning of 1837. With what she knew and what she wished she had known, no longer a young naive maiden of 18 but an older woman with regrets, what different choices could she make?
Relationships: William Lamb 2nd Viscount Melbourne & Victoria of the United Kingdom (1819-1901), William Lamb 2nd Viscount Melbourne/Victoria of the United Kingdom (1819-1901)
Series: Reborn [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1960135
Comments: 70
Kudos: 103





	1. Prologue

Prologue - Waking 

_ Floating through the mist of time, light enveloped her, lifted her up in a state that transcended thought. She had no sensation of fear, only curiosity. As if there was a gentle touch on the doors of her tranquility, followed by an impression of invitation. _

_ She understood what was being offered. Why, from whom, for what purpose, she knew not. The invitation did not offer. Still, she was curious. To have the chance to explore the circumstances of her youth with the assurity of maturity and the benefits of hindsight, even change the path of what seemed at that time to be utterly inevitable, seemed too enticing to give up. This is when the concern rose. Only concern, for in her current state of ultimate tranquility, there was no space for fear. She wanted that experience of youth to be unfettered from the bitterness of age, for what good would it be to enter into that exuberance if all one could taste is ash of cheated opportunities? A soothing sensation embalmed her, offering her a Promise.  _

_ With a sigh of contentment, she let herself be pulled forward towards the center of warm light. _

\--------------------------------------

She knew she was awake, but it was that delicious feeling of drifting in the limbo state of consciousness, when thoughts could pass without experiencing the flow of time. Looking inward, she explored this new  _ state _ of mind, held back from full awakening by a sense of not quite readiness. She could feel the weight of her limbs resting in slumber, truly not something that was too missed. At the same time, she luxuriated in the feeling of physicality. Toes, legs, fingers, arms, neck, hair, and...yes, indeed, her body was truly hers. 

Her young thoughts and fantasies flitted around in her mind, like sparkling dust attempting to occupy her attention. She felt comforted by their presence, but declined to dwell on them for long.  _ Return to a youthful feeling is delightful, revert back to being  _ that  _ young... _ she winced. As she explored herself, she noticed something new. There, that sense of  _ balance. _ She never knew that was what she was craving for until much later in life, and even then it was more understood in thought than practice. What she had in abundance was extremity.  _ Intensity. Urgency. Stubbornness.  _ It was a sword she wielded to cut through anything in her path, and that was how she lasted.  _ My biggest service to my country was to outlive everyone and everything they could throw at us,  _ she thought with a grim smile. But that was a thought that belonged to the elderly Victoria. She released it and turned back to examine this new feeling. 

It was constant, flowing straight through her core. Following its path, she swam through a rainbow hue of emotions that sought to sweep her away in one tidal torrent after another. Where in her past life she could only lament over the aftermath wreckage of such turbulences, at this moment of  _ now _ she could always find her way up and over, like a leaf cresting the highest of waves with ease. She was in control. Master of self.  _ So this is how the Promise is kept,  _ she thought to herself, tingling all over from the exciting prospect of being a whole version of herself since the time of never. 

With this realization, she realized that she was ready. With eagerness, she opened her eyes to the world awaiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first fanfic I've written in 20+ years. I watched Victoria on Amazon and my heart ached for days after....
> 
> I discovered 3 things (a) historic accounts were even more tragic than the TV depiction for Lord M (b) Daisy's book with more Vicbourne details (c) many great fanfics to make up for the loss. I literally had to have a happy fanfic open on my phone while watching S3. 
> 
> After watching Judy Dench's two great movies on Victoria's other great loves after Albert, I couldn't help thinking what would she think if she were to reflect on her younger self. Also, as much as I would have liked things to be different, after reading Victoria's diaries, her letters, Greville's accounts etc, I came to the sad conclusion that she would not have been able to effect the changes required to keep her Lord M. Her Lord M on the other hand was too much a creature of duty and propriety to do anything of this nature. Plus, I find young Victoria to be emotionally exhausting...as much as Lord M loved that youthful energy, I think he would have been worn out quite early on *wink* with his underlying health issues. That's where the motivation of this story came from - a Victoria who has both the will and the intelligence to change the her fate when there is still time.
> 
> Character building is a mix of both historic accounts and Daisy's interpretation, plus my own interpretation based on horoscope and statecraft/leadership. I follow the timeline of historic events more closely than Daisy's accounts, at least initially. Character visualization - absolutely Rufus Sewell is my Lord M and Jemma is my Victoria. 
> 
> Thank you so very much for reading. Your comments and kudos give me the motivation to keep writing.


	2. Queen

Chapter 1 - Queen

Of course this would be the day for her life to begin anew. She had been waiting for this day all her life and even knowing the path this moment sent her down, she would not have it any other way. Being Queen was her destiny and she embraced it then, still would embrace it now, thorns and all, without hesitation. Lezhen is not yet at her door. Quietly she got out of her bed, listening to the rhythmical snoring of her Mamma. What once filled her with annoyance is now mixed with fondness. She missed her mother deeply when she passed away. One more person torn away from her side prematurely, leaving her feeling more alone than ever. _Surprising how death brought such forgiveness of another’s weakness. Well, maybe not of EVERYONE_ , she thought wryly to herself. 

She peered over at Mamma’s sleeping face for a brief moment, further reassured that all was as expected. However, she couldn’t help but make her way straight to the looking glass in the corner of her room. Seeing herself with full clarity since time unknown resulted in deep shock. _I was...am...so narrow!_ She had long since resigned herself to her height, but she forgot how slight she was, compared to the wide girth she expanded into. She always thought her additional girth was to hold in the disappointments of life, not to mention how impossible it was as child-bearing tore apart her body. _Absolutely not again this time_ , she resolved with a shudder.

She studied her own reflection, as if it were a stranger. _But it is a stranger._ Her face being as smooth and unlined as she remembered, but her eyes and lips held more peace than she ever had. Her shoulders and back were as straight as ever, but maybe with less tension, less defensiveness? There was still that quick breath of nervous anticipation, but her overall manifestation was one of serenity. For the most part, at least. The anxiety was less seen, more felt. 

To be or not to be Queen, that was never a question. The question lied in how. Adding to the anxiety was the realization that she did not have perfect recall of situations from her previous living. There would be no letters nor diaries to help her recollect. Her passion for writing was born out of necessity, even as she realized it was just effective at betraying her confidence as a spy in the dark. Yet that was not a choice, for how else could she prove her own feelings and the truth of existence of those she loved? Perhaps it was her over-reliance on written words that at this moment of new beginning, much detail was lost to her. Or it was meant to be part of the Promise - to stop her from pouring over memories in search of clues to solve her dilemma. She needed to _live as her whole self_ to forge her way forward. Those were strange and new thoughts for her to contemplate, but they felt _right_.

\-----------------------------------------------------

Lehzen carefully pushed open the door and walked in with Clair, Victoria’s personal maid in attendance, bearing the most important message ever in her life.

“Your Majesty…”Lehzen said said in a low voice, gratified that she would be the very first person to greet her little Drina thus. She was surprised by a warm hug. Victoria was rarely moved to such close contact with anyone.

“Thank you, Lehzen, for everything.” Victoria said, still holding her hands. “I would have you stay by my side, regardless of what may come.” 

Lehzen was a little surprised by the tone of conviction she heard in Victoria’s voice. It sounded weightier than attachment to her governess of old. She looked closely at this child of her heart, realizing that something profoundly shifted in her. _She’s no longer a child_ , Lehzen thought. She thought she would see her Drina being excited beyond restraint that her deep wish since thirteen years old finally fulfilled. The excitement was there, yes, but there was also a great resolution, as if she fully recognized the enormity of this change on her life and has readied herself to step into the role. It was as if, overnight, her Drina became ready for the weight of her destiny. Lehzen’s words of _are you ready to go down_ died on her lips, because she knew without a doubt that Victoria was already was. 

Clair wrapped a shawl around Victoria’s shoulders to ward off the early morning chills. Quietly, Victoria went down the stairs. Lehzen followed, did not even think of offering to hold her hand. The Archbishop and Lord Chamberlain were already in the room waiting for her. They were conversing quietly amongst themselves, but fell silent the moment she appeared. As they would later relate the scene to others, they expected to see a young girl, but instead they saw a young Queen, whose bare-footed walk was as dignified as an angel’s first steps on Earth. She held out her hand to them wordlessly and the Archbishop first knelt to kiss her hand. 

“Your Majesty, I regret to inform you that your uncle, the King, passed away at two thirty-four this morning,” the Archbishop said. “Queen Adelaide was at his side.” 

Victoria nodded, with a hint of sadness said, “My poor Uncle. May he find peace with God. Is Queen Adelaide well?”

“She is as well as may be expected under these sorrowful circumstances. The King’s last wish was to commend Queen Adelaide to your care.” Lord Chamberlain said, eyes darting to the dancing Dash at her feet.

Victoria nodded thoughtfully, walked to a low seat nearby and sat down. Dash immediately laid down by her, content to be so close to his mistress. She could see how unnerved Lord Chamberlain was by her sitting down. She had long learned that when men used their towering height as a wordless comment on her womanly weakness, leaving them on their feet was a powerful yet subtle reminder of who they were speaking with. 

“I would be much occupied with affairs of the state for the next few days. Lord Chamberlain, please see to it that Queen Adelaide’s needs are met to her satisfaction.” Lord Chamberlain bowed in acceptance. His air of discontent dissipating with being given a suitable task. Satisfied, she nodded, standing up. “You have discharged your sorrowful duty well, Your Grace, my Lord. You have my thanks.” Taking that as a cue, both men bowed and backed out of the doorway in perfect unison. Victoria watched their graceful departure, a small smile flickered. Once upon a time she found their mannerisms to be comical, now she could feel nothing but fondness for an elegance that managed to linger for a while before being swept away by the waves of modernity. 

Suddenly, a rush of rustling fabric approached. “Drina! Warum bist du hier?” Her mother, Duchess of Kent, finally came down in search of her.


	3. Mama

Chapter 2 - Mama

Victoria almost regretted not going upstairs immediately. Standing in her nightgown and robe was not the most dignified way to let Mama know of her change in circumstances, but delaying was also not an option. Pretending she was fully clothed in mourning as she properly should be, she looked at Mama in the eyes and spoke quietly, “I came down to allow Archbishop and Lord Chamberlain to kiss hands. Uncle passed away this morning.”

For once, the loquacious Duchess of Kent was without words. Mouth slightly agape, she made a few tries before finally able to speak. “mein Gott...der König…”

“Mama, English only from now onwards please. Yes, I am the Queen. Now, if you’d excuse me, I need to dress appropriately.” Taking advantage of the Duchess of Kent’s shock, Victoria stepped around her carefully and walked briskly upstairs. She knew that Sir John and Lady Flora would not be far behind her mother, and she definitely would prefer not to face those two people in her nightgown. Jenkins was already waiting with a black dress in her room. She bobbed an awkward courtesy, struggling with the idea that she would be dressing the Queen of Britain instead of little Drina. Victoria locked the door behind her to make sure no one would come in unexpectedly as she changed. She needed some quiet to think. Wordlessly, she held out her arms. Jenkins and Clair proceeded to help her change in silence. 

She knew she would see them again, of course. Sir John was not a source of concern. She arranged things well last time and that was a serviceable solution. However, as she grew older, she gained further understanding of her Mama’s reliance on Sir John. More than once she wondered if she were too brusque in her treatment. There might be a more satisfactory way this time. She was no longer afraid of him and this realization also removed her sense of urgency to banish him from her life. At most, he was a nuisance that could be arranged at any time. Lady Flora, on the other hand, presented a totally different problem.

A strong pull on her corset’s lace from Jenkins’ firm hands knocked her breath out a little.  _ It’s almost not worth living again if one has to wear so many more years of corset! _ The pressure on her belly reminded her of Lady Flora’s malady. 

One of the biggest regrets of her life was the shameful way she behaved towards Lady Flora in her youth. Though she was able to apologize at the insistence of…. _ no, not yet.  _

She pulled her thoughts away hurriedly, fixing her mind firmly on the impending meeting with Lady Flora. She had many, many years to ponder on her mistake, but her embarrassment was too intense for her to delve into it. Easier to leave it at a vague sense of apology and resolution to treat others with more dignity. Unconscious to her until much later in life, she realized that the weight of the poor woman’s last words sat heavy with her, became yet another source of self-doubt. Little girl playing at being Queen. 

Loud insistent banging came from the doors. As Jenkins speeded up on her last knots, Victoria made up her mind. While she never would, not even now, want to seek approval from Lady Flora, she did and do want to redeem herself in that memory. In the long list of people eager to pull her strings, there were many more nefarious than Lady Hastings. At least all she wanted was for Britain to have a great Queen, instead of usurping the Queen’s role. Victoria could not bring herself to treat this woman with affection even in this life, but perhaps she could treat her with justice, even kindness. 

Heaving a little sigh, she studied her reflection in the looking glass. She almost expected to see a wizened and wrinkly face, as so many years of enforced black dress aged her before her time, but no, she still looked youthful. Reluctantly she instructed Jenkins to order her a few more black dresses. Regardless of how much she would prefer not to wear them, not having them to wear would be a greater disaster. Squaring her shoulders, she pulled open the door to the crowd of faces beyond. She almost laughed out loud.

Lehzen, Mama, Conroy, and Lady Flora all crowded at the narrow doorway. Except for dear Lehzen whose face was written with worry, everyone else showed different degrees of indignation and righteous suffering. Not unexpectedly, her mother was the first one to speak. “How could you lock us out, Drina!”

“How could you meet with the Archbishop and the Lord Chamberlain without us!” Conroy immediately snapped, in his eagerness almost spoke over her mother, a discourtesy more offensive to Victoria than to the Duchess of Kent. He wanted to say more, but faltered at her cool, steady glance. 

“Lehzen, what is the proper way to address one’s sovereign?” she asked.

“It would be appropriate to address you either as ma’am or Your Majesty, ma’am.” Lehzen spoke with ill-hidden glee, never hesitant about a chance to put Conroy in his place, especially over matters of etiquette. He had never hidden his contempt of her lack of knowledge about British aristocratic civilities.

“...I apologize for my lapse of manners in a moment of passion, your Majesty.” Conroy forced out, almost snarling in his reluctance. “Yet you must not meet with members of the government alone. You need the counsel of your mother or myself.”

A familiar rage surged in Victoria’s vein, but no longer threatened by his forceful manner, she was able to suppress it, even managed a small smile. “I appreciate the offer of your counsel, Sir John, and of course I wish for the support of Mama. However, I mean to start as I intend to carry on, by learning from the example of the great Queen Elizabeth. ‘I would not have my sheep branded with any mark other than my own, or follow the whistle of a strange shepherd.’ It would not be seemly for members of my government to see different shepherds in front of them. Would you not agree, Lady Flora?”

Lady Flora’s eyes widened momentarily at being addressed by Victoria so civilly, but she nodded , “It is wise to heed the great Queen’s words as worthy reminders.”

“Then maybe you should be styled as such, ma’am. Elizabeth II sounds very well. Very well indeed.” Conroy interjected hurriedly, seeing an opportunity to convince. 

Victoria curled up the corner of her lips. “I will take your opinion under advisement, Sir John. Now if you would excuse me, I need solitude to pray for Guidance from God to prepare myself for the task at hand.” She could see Conroy had more to say, but she again looked at him quietly, holding that gaze, until he backed down with a bow and moved out of her way. She nodded at Lady Flora who curtised deeply. Mama was wringing her hands in distress as usual, Victoria patted her hand but did not stop to talk. With a subtle glance at Lehzen, she motioned her to follow. Once they entered into the study, Victoria turned to Lezhen. “I need my peace and space, Lehzen. Could you please set up another room for me immediately?”

“But there’s no other decent room to be had, ma’am! All the other rooms are in states of disrepair.”

“Be as it may, I would sleep on a carpet if I had too. Besides, we would not be staying here long.”

“Not staying here? Where would we go?” Lehzen asked in bewilderment. 

“Buckingham House, of course.”

  
  



	4. Viscount Melbourne

Chapter 3 - Viscount Melbourne

Upon hearing Victoria’s wish to move to Buckingham House, Lehzen could not stop herself from recounting every account of the abandoned house, claiming it to be no fit residence for anyone, let alone the Queen. She listened to Lezhen’s German-accented voice, comforted by her presence and familiarity, glad to be distracted from the thought she could not push away. _Him._ Almost as if on cue, a page showed up with a platter holding a letter. Hands slightly trembling, Victoria picked it up and angled her back to Lehzen so she would not see her suddenly reddened eyes at that familiar handwriting. 

“Viscount Melbourne presents his humble duty to your Majesty, and being aware that your Majesty has already received the melancholy intelligence of the death of his late Majesty, will do himself the honour of waiting upon your Majesty a little before nine this morning. Viscount Melbourne has requested the Marquis of Lansdowne to name eleven as the hour for the meeting of the Council at Kensington Palace.”[1]

His very first letter to her, to be followed by countless ones in the years to come. Seeing his never-too-neat handwriting, knowing he just held the pen that bled this ink on pages barely hours ago, brought everything in a clear sense of _present._ She would see him again. In the flesh. She was honest enough with herself to admit that her choice to relive this life again was to give herself this moment to choose. He hurt her and she had never truly forgiven him, for she was not the kind of woman that could forgive all the pain just because she understood why. Now at this moment of choosing, would she even want to try again? Would things be any different this time? Did she have a choice?

A bitter smile flickered on her lips. His coming was as inevitable as time. Unless she chose to terminate her life at this very second, nothing else would stop his coming. _Yet maybe this time it could be different. He deserves to be given a chance. We deserve the chance to try._ The drop of hope welled in her heart, cooled the darkened edges of her temper. Yes, this time it would be different. It had to be. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Victoria could not remember exactly how she spent the next two hours. There were people surrounding her, trying to speak to her. Curtsies and bows of different degrees of elegance. Breakfast seemed to have been made available at some point, she vaguely recalled eating. Boxes arrived with their keys. She thought about reading them but decided that in her current state of distraction, she would not be able to fend off Conroy’s prying eyes and greedy hands. Better to leave the boxes closed. Stockmar came by to speak with her, bearing all the loving familiarity of a trusted family counselor, but she no longer found comfort with his company. Too many times she discovered that while the warmth was genuine, it was a thin veneer over his deepest loyalty to her Uncle Leopold, King of Belgium, whose ambition in life was to rule Europe through family influences.

Lehzen upon hearing that Viscount Melbourne would be visiting soon immediately tried to bring up the _reputation_ of the well-known noble lord as delicately as she could manage. She hinted at the _troubles_ he had with his young first wife, Lady Caroline, and the more recent event with a Mrs. Norton. Victoria listened patiently to her governess’s efforts at protecting her tender sensibilities, then expressed gently but firmly that as Queen, she had to meet with her ministers alone. “It is a matter of the great secrets of the State,” she concluded. Lehzen grudgingly accepted her defeat. Secretly, she made up her mind to station herself outside of the door throughout the whole meeting, just in case. 

Suddenly tired of all the prying eyes, Victoria asked for her diary to be brought to her and retreated into the quietness of her study. She gave clear instruction to the footman waiting outside not to disturb her unless it was Viscount Melbourne. Clair stood in a corner, quietly attentive as usual. Warm sunlight shone through large window panes. She opened the leaves of her small book, looked at the words written so very long ago by her youthful self. The italics, the capital letters, all the exclamation and effusive praises of almost everyone she encountered brought a smile to her lips that quickly faded to a grimace. Under that bubbly stream of effusive cheerful words, hid an ugly truth - she dared not write the truth on its pages. Sketches, on the other hand, were more honest. Much could be hidden in the lines and spoken without words, keeping her thoughts much safer. 

She thought about writing her obligatory letter to Uncle Leopold, but she was too agitated. Instead, she gave in to pacing. Mindless steps carried her around the room, touching the spines of books, opening them occasionally. _If only Lehzen knew..._ Lady Caroline, Mrs. Norton, Lady Blaton, Miss Eden, Miss Sarah...the list went on and on. Much was published about _him and them_ in the years that went by. She read through them all. She gave a little prayer of thanks that at least she was spared from being able to recollect those tales perfectly. Some of the descriptions...Of course these accounts needed to be taken with a grain of salt, but even so she could not reconcile the image of the man so painted with whom she had known for those years. _Which one was the real you_ ? As the clock hands inched closer to 9, her heartbeats increased _en tempo_. 

At 5 minutes to 9, she could see a solitary figure riding towards the house. _How could he come at such a leisurely pace!_ She thought indignantly, conveniently ignoring the fact that he had not yet met her aside from a quick moment in the passed King’s Drawing Room. She studied him critically, too far away to make out his features. His seat was natural, flowing well with the rhythm of his ride. Well-cut riding jacket showed off the strong lines of his silhouette. His riding crop was held for decoration, needing no more than a light nudge or gentle touch to urge his steed to do his bidding. It had always been this way with him. As he approached the stairs to Kensington House, he barely waited for his horse to fully stop before easily swung his long leg over the horse’s head, landing lightly on his feet. He was in the prime of his vigor, master of his movements. _And in just a few short years, all of that would be lost..._ A tear welled in her eye, Victoria blinked it away angrily. Not now. Tears could come when nothing else would be left. 

As much as she tried, Victoria could not find anything wanting. If anything, she found all the more to want. She stepped away from the window to avoid showing herself as he walked up the stairs. Already she saw Conroy hurried out of the front entrance to block his way in a frenzy. 

The few minutes of waiting dragged time long beyond tolerance. She wanted to snatch open the doors and run down, but no. Everything must be done ight. There is no time to lose. He must see her as a woman, not a child.

“The Viscount Melbourne,” the footman opened the door and announced. 

She held out her hand. He came forward and sank to one knee, bent down his head over her hand. _Dare I invite him into my life again? Even if the joy would only last a few years?_

_Yes._

\----------------------------------------------------------

Soft, was Melbourne’s first impression of her hand in his, which continued as his breath brushed lightly across her knuckles. Rising to his feet fluidly at a respectful distance, he looked at his new Sovereign in earnest for the first time. Meeting her calm eyes, he felt a reverb echoing through his being even though he stood as still as a rock. It was as if he suddenly became _awake_. Everything felt more real, all at once, radiating outward from her tiny form. She was looking at him with great calm and a hint of query. To cover up for that moment of disorientation, he bowed again, then spoke in his most formal manner, “May I offer my condolences on the death of your uncle the King, Your Majesty.”

 _He did not look really sad about losing the king. Possibly even a bit cheerful,_ she mused. “Poor Uncle King, he was always kind to me. Though I often wondered if he considered changing my circumstances through marrying me to some stranger.”

 _Quite perceptive_ , _maybe not as unaware as her age suggested_ , Melbourne thought to himself. “Indeed, ma’am? Would you wish he considered someone more familiar?” That came out more impudent than he intended. He winced inwardly, but as her possible Prime Minister, he had a strong interest in learning where her marriage inclinations laid. 

She stiffened at his words. “My marriage is mine to decide, Lord Melbourne.”

 _Ah._ Dash chose to interrupt them at this moment by running into the room and started circling Melbourne’s legs, barking at this stranger looming in front of his mistress. Melbourne immediately seized the opportunity to change the subject. “What a sweet creature! So very loyal to Your Majesty too.” He bent down to lightly pat Dash’s head. “I presume this is a little prince, ma’am? What is his name? 

“He is Dash, my most steadyfast friend and companion.” She could not help emphasizing the word _companion_ slightly.

To her surprise, he gave her an understanding look. “A companion who is constant through the changes of life and does not forsake for wealth or power is truly a gift. Your Majesty is much fortunate to have Dash.”

Even though his response bore no connection to the conversation they had in a different time and space, Victoria felt strangely completed by hearing from his own lips what being a companion meant. This was what he was offering her - constant, does not forsake. Except that she wanted more. “Thank you for the sentiment, Lord Melbourne. Since it is my intention to retain you and the other Ministers at the head of state affairs, I too look forward to your and your Government being constant in achieving greatness for Us.”

Upon hearing this, Melbourne knelt down once more to kiss her hand. “We shall not fail you, Your Majesty.”

“Excellent. What awaits me today, Lord Melbourne?”

For the next hour, Victoria and Melbourne went over the formalities of the Privy Council meeting and the speech he wrote for her. They discussed everything, including how she was going to enter - he was most insistent on her presenting herself with the greatest independence, to how she was going to wear her Order of the Garter - tastefully pinned on her sleeve. It was obvious that he had given this occasion great thought and had exercised his utmost efforts to ensure that his Queen would not suffer any indignity in her first public appearance. While all of this arrangement was immensely familiar to her, Victoria found it easy to fall into the pattern at the beginning of their relationship. He talked, she listened. From time to time, she asked probing questions that she could tell caught him by surprise, which invariably added to his pleasure of speaking with his young Sovereign. It was always his lips that would give away his emotions first, a subtle lift that never went away, only deepened as time passed.

As the clock struck ten, Melbourne stood up to take his leave. “I shall return at twenty past eleven to escort you down to the red salon, ma’am.” He paused for a second, then added, with a warm smile, “We are fortunate that God has seen fit to bless us with your existence, ma’am.” He bowed and left the room.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] This is the first letter from Melbourne to Victoria collected in the collection of Queen Victoria's letters. He wrote to her from South End. Adding here footnotes from the editor.   
> Footnote 50: Lord Melbourne, so far as can be augured from his handwriting, which is extremely difficult to decipher, appears always to have written his own name Melburne. But it is not the correct spelling, and no one else seems to have employed it.
> 
> Footnote 51: [Marquis of Lansdowne] Lord President of the Council; formerly for a brief period (1806-7) Chancellor of the Exchequer.


	5. Privy Council

Chapter 4 - Privy Council

The moment Melbourne stepped outside of Her Majesty's study, he immediately saw a dour-faced German lady standing right outside by the door.  _ This must be the famous Lady Lezhen _ , he thought, recognizing her from descriptions. He nodded amicable to her, then made his way downstairs. He did not expect to stay this late with the Queen, now he had to hurry back to change and return in carriage. Added to his sense of urgency was how he was shaken by his meeting with the Queen. He wished for time to slow down so he could examine his thoughts in leisure, but today of all the days would not give him that luxury.

He took his leave of the Duchess of Kent so quickly that it almost bordered on an affront to courtesy, but she was also very distracted by the tasks around setting up the red saloon for the Privy Council. In the end, both were quite ready to bid a hurried adieu.  _ For all claimed efficiency that the “Kensington system” pride itself on, the household seems to be very ill-prepared for this long expected event _ , Melbourne thought. Thankfully, the groom arrived quickly with his horse.

Once more he was glad that he made his home at South End rather than keeping the London Melbourne House or staying at No.10 Downing street. Both were so far away that it would have been impossible for him to return on time. His valet Blair, as if blessed by foresight, was ready with bath water and a change of formal court wear, so he could commence his toilette with all needed haste. 

Amidst all the chaos of preparation, his thoughts could not help but steal towards the young Queen and their meeting. Hot water flowed across his lean body, he could feel its exploring tendrils rooting deep, just like that Moment. He still could not comprehend what happened. It almost was as if he was coming  _ alive  _ at that moment. Perhaps he did feel that liveliness once upon a time, but it was long lost in memory. He has gotten much more accustomed to being a distanced participant, enjoying the display of intensity but declined to be part of it. Many have complained of his nonchalance, just as many admired him for it. He cared not either way. But when he was with Her...his Queen. She shattered that distance with her presence, demanding that he attend to her  _ here.  _ It took all his self restraint and then some to keep his attention focused on the topic of Privy Council. He knew what was said but all he remembered was how sunlight reflected on the wood floor then pooled around her, the slight creaking as floorboards flexed under the weight of her steps, the roughness of paper as he spread it open before her eyes…

_ Trousers. _ The further he was away from her, the easier it was for him to retract back into his glass house of solitude. By the time he arrived home, he was able to think and behave with the habitual detachment, except when he was thinking of her.  _ Shirt. _ What remained though, was that feeling of being alive. Everything sensation, every thought seemed to be crisper, in more focus. Underneath that was a sense of  _ vigor. Neckcloth _ . To all outside eyes, he was just as upright, lush-haired, clear-eyed as ever. Light streaks of silver and faint creasing around eyes and lips just added gravitas to his list of attractiveness, according to his sister Emily and any number of female acquaintances that seemed to surround him whenever possible. In his heart of hearts though, he had felt an encroaching weakness for some time. He knew he was counting down to the dusk of his life and made peace with it.  _ Even Augustus has been released from this world _ . 

_ Jacket.  _ Perhaps the appearance of the new Queen temporarily halted the approach of the end. If this rallied the last bit of energy he had left to give to his country and his Sovereign, he would willingly give it his all. 

\-------------------------------------------------

Melbourne arrived at Kensington Palace precisely at fifteen to eleven. The red saloon was already filled with peers, being served with refreshment by the house staff. This seemed like a most well-attended Privy Council. Many stopped by to greet Melbourne. While not all supported his Whig party nor Government, generally Melbourne was well-liked amongst his peers. 

Catching sight of Melbourne, Palmerston hurried up. “Did you kiss hand this morning?”

“I’ve had the honor of meeting Her Majesty, yes.”

“It’s hard to believe that little girl is now the Queen.” Palmerton just met Victoria barely five weeks ago. His impression of her at that time was a little girl that seemed way more sheltered and naive than others of her age. It was hard for him to imagine that all of a sudden, she was the Queen. “Will she be ready for her responsibility?”

“She is born ready.”

Palmerston arched an eyebrow at his words. “Sounds like she’s already made a loyal subject out of you, Melbourne. Can’t say that I’m surprised. You’ve always been the one who’s fondest of our royalties.”

Melbourne smirked at him. “I will look forward to hearing your thoughts after you’ve met her.”

“You are that confident about her?” Palmerston asked, slightly impressed in spite of himself. Palmerston considered himself to be one of the least likely people to be passionate about their new monarch. His loyalty laid with the country rather than the person wearing the crown. Melbourne must think highly of her indeed if he thought he’d hear good things from Palmerston. 

“Her Majesty leaves no room for doubt.” Melbourne simply answered. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to let Her Majesty know that we are ready for her.”

\---------------------------------------------

A light tap at the study door. Clair went to open the doors. Melbourne waited politely outside and bowed at the sigh of Victoria standing by the desk. “We are ready for you, your Majesty.”

“Thank you, my Lord. I will be down shortly.”

Catching her hint that she wanted to walk in alone without being escorted, he bowed again then closed the door, a small smile at his lips.  _ She is most independent _ , he thought admiringly. He always liked women who knew their own path, regardless where it led them. 

Head steward Penge saw Viscount Melbourne gave a meaningful look, nodded solemnly to indicate he understood that the Queen would be arriving soon. Melbourne made his way into the red saloon, filled to the brim. The warm June air did nothing for the heat rising from the densely packed room. All were packed in like a package of tightly wrapped lardon, each encased excruciatingly in layers of rich fabric. After painstakingly making his way to the front, he saw the swarthy Duke of Cumberland and the rotund Duke of Sussex both were already sporting red faces beaded with sweat. He hoped that they would be able to kneel and get up without incident, though he might wish for the Duke of Cumberland to keel over in a fit of indignation. He would never forgive his niece for blocking his path to the throne. 

A rustle started from the back of the room as well as an expectant hush. Without turning, he knew  _ she _ arrived. All turned towards her, bowed, and parted to make way for her solitary figure. Her expression was calm, even serene, but more captivating were her eyes. She looked straight at the small dais at the end of the room, never wavering, yet all in her path felt seen and measured. She stepped on the dais and turned to face them all. The atmosphere of the room felt like a thick blanket that smothered all thoughts of disturbance, encouraging people to breathe lighter. With everyone so still, Duke of Cumberland’s restless stirring stood out from the rest. The Queen fixed him with a stare, not stern for it would be unseemly for her to show displeasure to her uncle in such a public setting, but the steadiness of that gaze was enough to quell him.  _ The girl has some spine _ , Duke Wellington observed with pleasure. 

When she spoke, her silvery bright voice broke the silence of the room like a ray of light, lifting all but the sullenest of hearts. She spoke from memory with ease, words flowing with sincerity and conviction, accompanied by a timbre of youthful energy. After years of ignoring the windy slur of the passed King, the Privy Council could not help but listen attentively to this voice that demanded their attention. Her eyes surveyed the room naturally as she spoke, not lingering on any single individual for favor or displeasure , but Melbourne could feel her gaze passing over him again and again. Again, her presence drew him like a lodestone.  _ Does she have the same effect on others? _ He wondered. He never believed in the nonsense about the healing touch of a king’s hand, anointed or not, but something was different when he was in the same room with her.

The speech ended with her invoking the blessing of God. Like Melbourne earlier in the day, quite a few members of the Privy Council concurred in their hearts that indeed, they had been blessed to have this young Queen. She sat down on the makeshift throne of an appropriated chair and a stool was placed before her feet. Duke Cumberland was the first to swear fealty, as befitting his status as Royal Uncle. Victoria could see that he was itching to say something that would rattle her composure, but instead she steeled herself to lean forward and kissed him on the cheek. It took him completely by surprise and the opportunity for him to say something riling was lost. He had no choice but to puff his disgruntled way off the dais. Yet another lesson learned through past mistakes - any show of anger or slight in the public would be magnified hundredfold to malign her image, which would be exactly what he wanted. Duke of Sussex followed after to kiss her hand and she also placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. He might be stuffy, but all he wanted was very simple. Quite endearing, really. Victoria resolved to address the issue of his wife’s title sooner rather than later. She needed allies of all kinds around her if she were to get what she wanted.

Under watchful eyes, Melbourne stepped up next to swear fealty, showing to all present his Government’s support of the new Queen. He knelt with practiced elegance on the stool and kissed her extended hand, lines of the allegiance oath running through his mind.  _...in all things i will do as a faithful and true Servant ought to do to Her Majesty. So help me God.  _

“I need your attendance, Lord Melbourne.” The Queen said to him in a low voice, eyes subtly darting to her left. 

Immediately he caught her drift. He stood up and moved to stand to the left side of her. Somehow, it felt like the most natural place for him in the world. As the next Lord stepped up to swear his fealty, he leaned forward and whispered, “Lord Falkland.”

“Thank you, Lord Falkland” the Queen said in her clear voice at the aged lord kneeling in front of her.

Seeing the potential embarrassment of the Queen not being able to address them by name perfectly averted, the remaining Lords quickly formed into a queue. Melbourne staying by her side, supplying name after name. To all that looked upon this scene, it was as if the Queen and Lord Melbourne had rehearsed for this, so seamlessly they moved in tandem. When it was Lord Palmerston’s turn, Melbourne muttered, “I believe you know this one.”

With a flair no less than Melbourne’s, Palmerston knelt and devotedly kissed the Queen’s hand. “Your composure took away our breath, ma’am.” He flirted good-naturedly. Victoria didn’t respond, but a soft curve at her lips and a twinkle in her eye showed she did not find his forwardness offensive. Palmerston nodded almost imperceptibly at Melbourne as he stepped off the dais, acknowledging his close friend’s good judgment of character. The Queen is special, indeed. 

When the line finally drew to an end, Victoria stood up and quietly left the room. Melbourne did not follow her. He stayed behind to confer with members of his party. Many were murmuring comments of commendation about how well he supported the Queen in her first public appearance. It would be advantageous for the Whig party to be associated with the new Queen, continuing their role of ushering in a new era which would be consistent with their support for the Reform Act passed in years before. Melbourne listened mildly and nodded from time to time, only half listening to the conversation. His mind was busy with comparing again the impact the Queen’s physical proximity had on him. Its acuity seemed to have worn off quickly this time.  _ Nothing more than the excitement of meeting Her Majesty for the first time then,  _ he shook his head at himself. It was so unlikely him to be reacting to such a little thing _.  _ Regardless, he looked forward to meeting with his Queen again. In fact, he could see the head steward at the entrance, bearing a silver platter with an envelope addressed to him, trying to make his way through the thick throng of people. He excused himself from the circle and made his way to the steward with much more success. 

“Lord Melbourne.” The steward bowed, presenting him with the platter. 

Melbourne nodded his thanks and left the room to find a quiet corner to open the letter. It was short and straight to the point.

_ Her Majesty the Queen requests Lord Melbourne to attend upon her at twenty to 9 tonight for discussion regarding her duties, if it were of no great inconvenience to him. _

The not-so-subtle hint of her strong desire for him to comply made him smile. He signaled to one of the nearby household attendants and asked for stationery. As he was waiting for its delivery, Stockmar found him and made his way over with Conroy in tow. 

“Lord Melbourne.” Stockmar greeted him with a warm smile. Conroy also nodded and murmured a greeting. 

“Lord Stockmar. Sir Conroy.” Melbourne responded, nodding amicably to both men. Melbourne had crossed path with Stockmar on previous occasions as Stockmar was negotiating for the hand of a Portugal princess for yet another Coburg prince - heaven knew why that surname was blessed with an endless parade of healthy scions! Melbourne had always thought of him as a puppet master, with the intention of binding the then-future heir to the Crown to the bosom of King Leopold in as many ways as possible. Compared to him, Conroy’s transparent attempts to control her were almost laughable. He used to be more concerned about Stockmar’s influence, but from what little he had observed of the Queen so far, he felt those puppet strings might not have been as tight or as numerous as he previously feared. 

“I must compliment you on the most valuable council you’ve provided Her Majesty. She conducted herself with great assurance and modesty in her very first public appearance. This bodes well for the future.” Stockmar said, as if he were an Englishman expressing his joy and confidence in his new Queen.

“I’m sure the Queen would have managed very well regardless. ” Melbourne responded, refusing to be drawn into discussion on his future role in regards to the Queen. 

“No one would be more suitable than you to instruct Her Majesty in the business of the Government, Lord Melbourne, but given your devotion to your duties in the House, one wonders if that Queen would not also benefit from another source of assistance always available?” Conroy spoke up, being less patient than Stockmar in this dance of words. 

Melbourne could understand his urgency. To have wished for so many years and now the opportunity arrived, how could he not reach for it? “That would not for me to say, Sir Conroy. I, as we all do, serve at the pleasure of Her Majesty. Now, if you would kindly excuse me, I need to rejoin my colleagues.” He nodded pleasantly at both and walked back to join his friends who were leaving. He realized that he needed to be more circumspect about his association with the Queen, especially regarding any sign of her dependency on him. Stockmar would see that as an opportunity to either rope him or deter him. He had no intention of becoming a pawn in that man’s game. He just wished the Queen would not be affronted by the delay of his response.

  
  



	6. Private Secretary

Chapter 5: Private secretary 

June 21, 1837. South End.

_Viscount Melbourne presents his humble duty to your Majesty and begs leave to attend to your Majesty later this evening to prepare Your Majesty for the Proclamation at St James tomorrow. Viscount Melbourne would make himself available at any time as it pleases Your Majesty._

Immediately after Victoria read the letter, she sent a reply with the waiting courier, bidding Lord Melbourne to attend to her at twenty to nine this evening. She informed Mama, who not surprisingly spluttered with outrage at the thought of her young daughter being visited by an individual of dubious repute at this late hour. Victoria gently but firmly reminded Mama that tomorrow would be her Proclamation and nothing could be allowed to go wrong. The Duchess of Kent could find no more reason to object after that. It also effectively stopped Stockmar and Conroy’s incessant pestering to offer her consul for tomorrow. After dodging another wave of tearful accusations about leaving her poor Mama alone on this tumultuous day, Victoria asked for dinner to be brought to her new rooms. This used to be Queen Anne’s chambers, neglected for years. Lehzen did her best to clean it up and provided new linens, but that did not change the fact that the room was shabby and smelled musty. Victoria cared not. Privacy worthed more to her than luxury. Lehzen found herself a small room nearby and was still busy getting it ready for the night. Clair continued to arrange the rooms with this and that, moving quietly to avoid disturbing Victoria. Finally alone, Victoria took out Lord Melbourne’s last letter and read it through again. She of course understood his implication. _So Stockmar or Conroy is already leveraging? Maybe both of them? Not unexpected._ She sighed, touching his name. _If only you were this aware, my Lord M..._

For years after his passing, no one could utter his name in her presence without incurring the harshest look, so all learned to stay silent. She knew many claimed her to be fickle as he aged and her attention waned, but they knew nothing of the angry retributions and veiled threats thrown her way by Albert and Stockmar. As he lost his grip on himself after the stroke, he became ever more indiscrete and blatant in his loss. Being the man, he could show his suffering to the world, but she had to hide it all under the guise of blissful marriage. As promised, he did write and even sent her flowers, occasionally claimed to regret their time together, but by that time, he was no longer her Lord M. Time and time again she tried to find glimpses of him in their rare chances to meet. Occasionally she would be rewarded with a gaze, a ghost of that familiar smile that would lift her heart, but more often than not, she was disappointed. An old man sitting in the husk of what he once was, feelings he wanted to suppress were naturally the first to be forgotten, until only memories of his political days were left. By then, he only wanted his Queen. He did not want HER. 

As he disappeared, her rage built, burning brighter than the flames that consumed the Parliament. How dare he grow old and fade before she was ready to let go? How dare he deny her right to be by his side for the last days by hiding away in Brockett Hall, rendered speechless by illness? After the birth of Louise, her dark mood grew to its height. Her resentment of her children and pregnancies knew no bounds, because they kept her from exercising what little freedom she had left as Queen. Bit by bit, the flames turned from heat to chill, swallowing her like an icy, shadowy ocean. Downward she spiraled, fading with him into the same darkness, until she lied contently in the cold abyss. From there, she could look upon the world detached, unmoved. On that twisted throne, she listened to news of his passing. With a twisted lightless, she wrote to her uncle gaily about the happy stabilization of Berlin and almost offhandedly, she brought up his death. She talked about how he was truly attached to her, _but_ _I was lost to him_. He was not a firm Minister but he was noble, _yet how differently things would be if he could have stood firm on his feelings for me instead of being noble._ Lord Beauvale and Lady Palmerston felt it very much. _I felt nothing._ [1] Only relief. No longer she had to wonder if his next letter would arrive on the platter. She could look at his portrait without fearing if he would again tell her, “I have no use of your heart”. Hope finally, utterly, left her side, leaving her to despair in peace. 

Clair’s light touch startled her. As her awareness returned to the here and now, her new found balance also coaxed her away from the old edge. It was something of the past. None of that needed to ever happen if she made it right this time. Someone was knocking on her doors. She nodded a quiet thank you to Clair for calling her attention to the door knocking so subtly, then raised her voice, “Yes?”

“Lord Melbourne has arrived, Your Majesty.”

 _Already?_ “I will receive him in the study.” After checking her appearance one last time in the looking glass, Victoria walked out of her room, right into Lehzen. Lehzen quickly curtsied then stuck to her side. Victoria knew at once what Lehzen wanted. “No, Lehzen. I will meet Lord Melbourne alone.”

“But ma’am, it is now in the evening! This is most inappropriate!” Lehzen was both distressed and outraged. How could her ‘Drina be so stubborn? Couldn’t she see that this is a dangerous rake that could ruin her reputation? Already Lehzen could notice the subtle way her ‘Drina seemed to be distracted whenever his name was brought up.  
“Day or night, a Queen meets with her ministers alone.” Victoria’s tone was adamant but not unkind. “Thank you, Lehzen.” With that, she stepped into the study, closing the door firmly behind her.

\-------------------------------------------------

Melbourne pretended to study the collection of books on the sparse shelves when Victoria and Lehzen approached. It would not be gentlemanly to express in any manner that he might have overheard their conversation. As Victoria closed the door and came forward with her hand extended, he bowed and kissed it in greeting. 

“Good evening, ma’am.”

“Lord Melbourne.” She paused. _Carpe diem_. “I supposed you heard my exchange with Lehzen?”

Melbourne, initially taken back by her directness, allowed his amusement to show on his face. “It would not be _appropriate_ for me to acknowledge that, ma’am,” he drawled. 

Victoria sat down, inviting Melbourne to do so across from her. Melbourne accepted it without protest. “Be as it may, would you agree with me that I should be able to meet with my ministers alone, no matter at which hour of the day?”

“To be a Sovereign is to be alone, ma’am. Sex does not change that aspect of the throne.”

“Even if they have a consort?”

“That is beyond my knowledge, ma’am. Though I do believe His Majesty King William IV found much satisfaction in both the company of his Queen and other associations.”

“That doesn’t mean he didn’t feel alone.” Shadows flitted across Victoria’s face. 

A corner of Melbourne’s heart quivered. _How could an eighteen year old girl speak of loneliness in company with such familiarity?_ He thought he could guess its origin, that Kensington system that Conroy devised to keep her isolated, yet it seemed more profound than that. He knew he should say something lighthearted to change the course of this conversation, such would be his norm as both a courtier and a minister. Yet the vulnerability the young Queen showed to him at this moment was so honest and transparent that it seemed churlish to pretend he was blind to its existence. After the briefest hesitation, he offered, “There is comfort to be found when understanding of the sentiment is shared even as one bears its burden in solitude.”

Victoria’s eyes softened as she looked at him. Last life she spent the rest of the year assessing him, trying to discern if he would turn out to be another man eager to dictate his terms about her life. This time she would not tread that path again, but she did wonder if perhaps he would not be moved to respond to her without dissimulation just yet. The possibility hurt her pride, but she acknowledged that she had the advantage of knowing him but he not her. Hearing the candor and care in his voice filled her from inside out, released into a smile in full bloom. “Your coming to me today is the happiest event of my life, Lord Melbourne.” 

The light from her shining face pierced Melbourne’s eyes, stung him so deeply that he felt the welling of soft mist at the corner of his eyes. Stunned, he bowed deeply to conceal its existence. He thought all he had left were pools of sand long since. “The honor is mine, ma’am.”

“Would you then be willing to become my private secretary, Lord Melbourne? I have much need of your advice in handling all the affairs of the country.” There, she said it. 

“Ma’am, I’m afraid that I have the duty to inform you that upon the demise of the former King, the Parliament will be dissolved and an election is to be held. While my party is quite strong, I cannot speak with certainty on the outcome of this election.” Afraid that his inexperienced Queen might not fully understand, he explained further. “If my party does not win a majority in this election, I will not be considered as a candidate for being your Prime Minister, which is your prerogative to appoint, nor will I be the right person to advise you on affairs of the country.” 

“Then you can be my private secretary until you cannot be anymore. If you are willing.” Victoria added the last sentence to make it sound more like a request. It was hard for her to speak in supplication after years of being given her due. 

“My willingliness is not the key factor of consideration for this appointment, ma’am. Your private secretary will be privy to almost all of your communications and support you in your recollection of correspondences previously received. A younger person of strong memory and availability to provide his service to you for many years will benefit you more.” Remembering his earlier conversation with Conroy, he added with great delicacy. “I can provide you with a few names whose competences I can vouch for, should you wish for the appointment to be awarded to an individual from outside of your existing household, ma’am.” 

_This younger person excuse again!_ Despite all her determination to be considerate of their unequal basis in this current engagement, Victoria could feel her rage bubble to the surface at those words. Over and over again he denied her with that same reason until he convinced her. Only for her to witness over the next two decades the happiness his brother and his sister shared with their spouses. Unable to contain it sitting, she shot to her feet. He immediately stood up with her. She demanded angrily, “Is youth a substitute for loyalty, Lord Melbourne?” She clenched her fists at her side, fighting to remain in place when all she wanted to step close. Risen temper colored her cheeks a rosy hue and her clear blue eyes darkened to the stormy grey of a brewing tempest. She stared into his eyes, commanding his attention. “Are you not aware of how precarious my position is, that many would seek to discredit me or manipulate me to their own advantage? What assurance can you provide that any person you recommend will stay free from corruption of guile?” _Are you pushing me towards another again?_

 _She is magnificent in her temper_ , Melbourne could not help admiring even in this moment of tension. Her passionate conviction touched him deeply and he had to acknowledge that she was right. He would not trust anyone else but him to have her best interest at heart always. _She trusts me so..._ He held up his hands in a sign of surrender, trying to defuse his Queen’s temper with humor. “I cannot contest the merits of Your Majesty’s arguments.” He said with a light chuckle. “I can but lay my acceptance at your feet as tribute.” He sank to one knee and looked up at her with moist green eyes. “Would Your Majesty do me the honor of accepting me as your private secretary, for so long as Your Majesty may require my service?

Caught up in the warmth in his gaze, Victoria’s anger swiftly dissipated and that bright smile once again returned to her face. She held out her hand to him, “Yes, I will, my Lord...M.”

Melbourne lifted that small hand with his, as carefully as holding up a shy rose bud, then laid on it a reverent kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] This is based on the actual letter she wrote to Leopold after Lord M died. There was something so unnatural about her tone that I had to talk about it. I wrote this passage from the theory that she was suffering from postnatal depression, showing symptoms of detachment and feeling like an outsider looking in. 
> 
> Osborne, 21th November 1848.
> 
> My dearest Uncle,—Thank God! that the news from Berlin are better. It is to be hoped that this may have a good effect elsewhere.
> 
> In France there ought really to be a Monarchy before long, qui que ce soit.
> 
> Our poor old friend Melbourne died on the 24th. I sincerely regret him, for he was truly attached to me, and though not a firm Minister he was a noble, kind-hearted, generous being. Poor Lord Beauvale and Lady Palmerston feel it very much. I wish it might soften the caro sposo of the latter-named person.
> 
> Victoria R.


	7. Proclamation

Chapter 6 - Proclamation

Melbourne arrived back in his South End residence close to ten. For an ingrained night owl such as himself, it was quite early for him to retire. He considered returning to House Holland where after the Privy Council, many members of his group reconvened there to take tea and continued their discussion over this great change. They would still be waiting there for him, curious to learn more of his impressions about her. Usually he would already be making his way there. Early nights-in without company usually meant extended drinking until late into the night. Not the best course considering his early morning duty at St James tomorrow. However, after he took leave of the Queen, he suddenly realized that he did not want to share his thoughts with anyone yet. He needed solitude to ponder, and if he were completely honest with himself, to savor. 

Blair greeted him at the door and followed upstairs to help him change out of formal attire into a nightshirt and a soft dressing robe. Enveloped in familiar comfort, Melbourne walked into his library and sank into his favorite chair. Blair had placed his usual nightcap on a small table. Almost absent-mindedly, he poured himself a glass. Swirling the glass, he reflected back on the events of the day. 

Nothing about it went as he expected. He was prepared to meet with an inexperienced young girl who would be struggling to keep her composure. He thought his extent of duty was to teach her the Council formalities Greville prepared for him. As for whether his Government would last this round of election - if it did, he would have served his duty, if it did not, he’d just wait until the pendulum swung again. Or occupy his time with activities outside of politics. He entered politics to please his mother, serve his country, and to support his friends. Along the way he might have done some good to benefit the common people, but those were never his motivations. If anything, the trial over Caroline Norton proved to him that the common people would not hesitate to jeer a complete stranger just for their own _amusement_. A sip of the brandy warmed him from the chilling thoughts. As for his friends, he missed the days when he could debate them instead of wrangling them like managing unruly children. He was not sure if they remained satisfied with him as the parent either. Really, he was quite ready to walk away from it all. 

Until today. If the morning’s meeting only piqued his curiosity, by the end of this evening he would be unashamed to proclaim himself to be her loyalest subject. Suddenly, he was keen to win the election because that would allow him to be a part of her rule and remain longer in her company as her private secretary. He would have laughed uproariously if anyone told him he would want, even be excited about that role. To be at a monarch’s beck and call, to attend to their affairs and correspondences at the expense of his own time, felt like an imposition of the highest degree. He knew how much he relied on his own Tom Young, who was invaluable for the degree of commitment and devotion Tom had always shown him. He would have thought he had none of those to give to anyone anymore, much less the Queen, after Caroline and Augustus. 

However, when she asked, it took everything he had to pause and consider what would be best _for her_ instead of accepting with an immediate yes. He was selfishly glad that the Queen found excellent reasons to overrule his objection. Yet... _What have I done to have her trust me thus?_ Neither could he explain his own eagerness to support her in any manner she required. Recalling how he stood by her side in her first ever Privy Council, how she recited the speech _he_ wrote her from memory, filled him with pride that even his first appointment as Prime Minister could not compare. He marveled at the way that she never turned her head an inch throughout the hour, completely trusting him to be ready with the next answer. On his part, he surprised himself with how ably he could read her body language. Those subtle angles of her shoulder indicating to him how much she knew about the next Lord in line. Together they carried out her very first royal duty, her every inch the Queen, him standing firm behind her. _Maybe that is why. She needed me. I...I want to be needed by her._

He thought her request for him to be her private secretary was the last surprise for the day, but again he was proven wrong. The way she later quizzed him on the key issues of debate in the Houses now to gauge his party’s chance of remaining in office stunned him in her intense interest. A smile stole over his face, undetected. Over the course of years, he had many similar conversations with various brilliant ladies of his acquaintance. He would never be the one to doubt sharp intelligence could exist behind a pair of beguiling eyes. _Eyes of sky and tempest..._ Compared to those ladies, Victoria would not be the quickest nor the best educated. However, what ultimately set her apart was her intention. Other ladies were eager to understand in order to express their opinions or to find the angle from which they could best exert their influences. She wanted to understand in order to judge which side of arguments had greater merit. She took no delight in flowery language. Rather, she demanded everything be explained to her _elementarily_ , only wanting to see plain facts san embellishment.

For a moment he was concerned that he would bore her with the Government affairs, but he soon found out that conversing with her was effortless. He needed not worry about amusing her. Everything he said to her was listened to with appreciation and enjoyment. If he would allow himself a momentary flight of fancy, he might even venture that the Queen was enjoying both his knowledge and his company. 

In the end, he had to take his leave because she showed no subtle signs of wanting him to bid her good evening. Yet he needed to be mindful of her reputation, even if she were too young to be conscious of it. A yawn suddenly overtook him. He looked down at his still half-full glass, startled to see he only sipped lightly yet already feeling muscles loosened in relaxation. Bemused, he made his way into his bedroom, fully expecting to lie awake for hours to come. Instead, he sank into the long lost sweet darkness of restorative slumber.

————————————————

The carriage rumbled along the path to St James. Victoria was quite unused to how quiet it was along the way. No cheers, crowds, or cries of God save the Queen. Was it because the people didn’t realize that was the new Queen’s carriage? No, they recognized it. A few took off their hats, but so very few. The Duchess of Kent said something scathing about their attitude, Victoria barely heard her. It slipped her mind that she wasn’t always popular and to be reminded was a shock. There were months and years when she was downright despised by many. Those periods she dearly wanted to forget. Periods like now, people on the roadside looking in - curious, suspicious, skeptical, judgmental. Still, she lasted and her Jubilee was her ultimate triumph. She had never been vain about her own appearance, but she was quite proud of her diligence at being Queen. She toiled hard and sacrificed much - health, sanity, happiness - so by God she deserved to be celebrated by her people! Alas, this too had to be rewound back to the start. The regard of her people would be a well-oiled slope to climb. _The mountains I have to conquer to reach you, Lord M..._ She heaved a deep sign in resignation. 

“‘Drina, don’t be discouraged. With Sir John’s advice, you will be a good Queen and they will love you.” The Duchess of Kent touched her daughter’s knee. 

Victoria couldn’t quite tell whether Mama was acting upon her maternal instinct, or her desire to reconcile her daughter with the most important man in her life. Perhaps both. 

“Mama, do you doubt that I will be a good Queen?” Victoria knew that this was unseemingly blunt, but she cared not, even if her mother’s lady-in-waiting Lady Mary Stopford was sitting in the carriage next to Mama. Poor woman suddenly developed a keen interest in the pattern of her gloves, studying it with the greatest concentration in the world.

“Oh ‘Drina, of course not. You will be a great Queen. You just need some help. You need a man with great experience and keen insight of the world to be by your side, to help you navigate the harsh world.” 

“I am so glad that we agree, Mama.” Victoria replied. 

“You do?”

“Of course, Mama, which is why I’ve asked Lord Melbourne to be my private secretary so I can benefit from his great experience and keen insight of the world.” Victoria beamed.

The nameless woman seemed to be trembling slightly. 

“What? Him? ‘Drina, how could you do that without consulting us!”

“I was worried that you would not agree with my choice, but it seemed that I shouldn’t have worried.” Just at this moment, the carriage arrived. Attendants opened the door and helped Victoria down the steps. Victoria waited by the carriage until she could see Mama about to get out. Then, in a voice loud enough for people around her to hear, she said brightly, “It’s quite wonderful how you appreciate Lord Melbourne, Mama. I will be sure to let him know of your kind thoughts and recommendation.” Without waiting for a reply, she turned around and walked into St James.

That night, Greville wrote in his diary, “All thought the Duchess of Kent preferred Conroy, but it seemed not to be the case. It was said that the Duchess spoke of Melbourne with very good feelings to the Queen, moving her to choose Melbourne to be her private secretary. Perhaps the Queen and her mother were not as incordiale with each other as rumored.”

———————

Stepping into the Closet, she immediately asked an attendant to invite Viscount Melbourne for an audience, fully expecting he already arrived. In no time, he appeared in his customary simple yet elegant self, warm smile on his face. She held out her hand for him to kiss, enjoying the physical contact this courtesy allowed. 

“Good morning, Lord M. Did you sleep well?” 

“Quite well, ma’am.” In fact, better than well. It had been years since he woke up this refreshed. 

“Mama spoke very well of you this morning and commended me on my choice of you being my private secretary,” Victoria’s eyes twinkled as she spoke. 

Melbourne’s lips twitched at the corner in amusement. “So I’ve heard.”

“Good news spread fast.” She knew that silvery comment at the front steps of St James would invite lots of curiosity and the news would spread. Her poor Mama would not be able to speak out against Lord Melbourne on this, unless she wanted to accuse her daughter of lying. Lady Mary could present an alternative tale, but would she want to promote Conroy’s favor? Victoria thought not. She might have even helped to cement that rumor. Conroy had few friends in the household, because of Mama’s clear preference and his jealousy. A mistake she also made on her part in the past. Another lesson learned too late.

Melbourne’s tone was as warm and light as ever, but his brow was slightly furrowed. “Your Majesty has considerable power of persuasion.”

“Do you disapprove, Lord M?” Victoria asked with an arched eyebrow, hiding her consternation. She knew he liked her much for guilelessness, but that was an indulgence that came with a high price. He sheltered her so well that she could turn a blind eye to the hidden traps waiting for her every step, until he could not protect her from herself and the world any more. She would keep that guileless part of self for him, and him only, but now is not yet the time. 

“A single brush cannot complete a great work. Your Majesty is well served by having many tools at your disposal.” He replied smoothly, not revealing the pang he felt when he realized this young girl had given up on her natural right to innocence. What had been done to her to force such maturity? This is an applaudable caution in a Queen, but heart-aching to see in her. 

“But?” She knew instinctively those light lines indicate something unsaid. She wanted to reach out and smooth them away.

“But what, ma’am?” He parried with a bland smile, resolved not to share. It would be impossibly presumptuous for him to express any acknowledgement of her hardship. 

She would not give up. “You seem to have other thoughts that you are holding in reserve.” 

“I hold many thoughts in reserve, ma’am. Men seldom are shown to be a fool until foolishness is uttered.”

“You are trying to steer me away from this topic, Lord M.”

“Am I, ma’am?”

“Are you not, Lord M?” Victoria’s insistence gave away to a grin. How she missed their game of verbal dance. 

The merriment in Melbourne’s eyes also reflected the same enjoyment. “Only because I see Lord Chamberlain arriving.” He barely suppressed a smirk at her pout of defeat. “It is nearly the time for your Proclamation, ma’am. You are styled as Alexandrina Victoria, is this your wish?” Knowing her struggle for independence, he wanted to be sure that this matter of all things was exactly as she wished. His caution was well justified.

“No. From now on, I wish to be known only by my second name, Victoria.”

“Victoria.” He said in a low voice, trying out this foreign name. It moulded itself well to his tongue, sending a shiver down her spin. “Queen Victoria.” 

They exchanged a smile, as if reaching agreement on a conspiracy. 

He offered her a bow. “Very well, ma’am, I shall make your wish known to the Lord Chamberlain. If you would excuse me, ma’am.”

“This is not over, Lord M.”

“I look forward to our next exchange, ma’am.”

———————

Victoria stood at the balcony, looking out at the crowd below. Throughout the proclamation, she curtsied to the people at appropriate junctures. Her cabinet of ministers flanked her in the back. Mama was standing somewhere nearby. Standing up high, she could trust few amongst those who stood at her unprotected back. Facing down towards the mass, they seemed so far away yet their unforgiving silence loomed close. They did finally cheer when given the sign, but who knew what was under the noise. _What an apt analogy to being a Queen_ , she thought, appreciating the irony that was lost on her younger self.

“We are ready for you, ma’am.” His voice broke her musing. “Would you please join us?”

“Coming, Lord M.” 

_I will conquer this mountain and more to reach you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greville's recount of the day. "The Duchess of Kent was in the carriage with her, but I was surprised to hear so little shouting, and to see so few hats off as she went by. I rode down the Park, and saw her appear at the window when she was proclaimed. The Duchess of Kent was there, but not prominent; the Queen was surrounded by her Ministers, and curtsied repeatedly to the people, who did not, however, hurrah till Lord Lansdowne gave them the signal from the window."


	8. Buckingham

Chapter 7: Buckingham

Victoria finished her last audience with Minto and walked out of the Closet with him, chatting amicably. Minto appeared to be flattered by her attention and was animatedly telling her about the royal yacht Adelaide. Victoria nodded at appropriate intervals and subtly extended their walk together until they saw Minto’s party. As she expected, Lord Melbourne was amongst them. He seemed to be having a conversation of his own as well. 

**

“Are you really going to be her Private Secretary?” John Russell asked.

“I fear I feel duty-bound.” William replied.

“Because of what the Duchess of Kent said? I have to admit, I did not expect her to commend you thus over Conroy.”

“I too, do not understand. However, I do know that if I decline, then either Conroy or Stockmar would be most delighted to assume my place.”

“That must not be allowed to happen. Conroy is a nuisance, but Stockmar is the extension of King Leopold’s meddling. We already spent fifty thousand pounds a year trying to control that consort peddler.”

“So you see I have no choice in this matter.” Melbourne said smoothly, showing a small smile open to interpretation. 

“Indeed I do. I regret such a great inconvenience has been placed upon you, but such is duty.” 

**

“Thank you for the lovely recount of Adelaide, Lord Minto. I shall look forward to seeing her at Windsor when I visit.” 

“Your Majesty is too kind.” Minto murmured, bowed. Over his bowed head, Victoria glanced over at Melbourne, who was also looking their way. Victoria gave a small smile and turned away.

**

“Seems like you have been summoned, William.” John Russell chortled. “Go do your duty, my noble Lord. We will drink your health at Holland House later.”

Melbourne gave him a wry look, then walked over to Victoria, who was waiting a bit further away. Behind her, the Duchess of Kent’s party came out of the ante chamber, ready to leave St James as well. 

“Ma’am.”

“Lord M, I’m so glad to see you still here. I’d like to visit Buckingham House this afternoon to prepare for my household transition.”

“That’s a very good idea, ma’am. Buckingham place is closer to London, however it requires preparation before it can be ready to receive your Majesty’s household.”

“I am actually wondering if I can impose on you for conveyance and advice, Lord M.” At his quizzical look, she clarified, “I have little experience with such management, and I would like to visit with few attendants. The family coach has too much capacity.”

 _She doesn’t want the Duchess of Kent and her retinue to come as well,_ Melbourne realized _._ “Perhaps you could take a chaise with a lady of your household?”

Victoria sniffed in a most unQueenly way. Melbourne tried to hide his amusement. 

“That would be a most boring journey indeed. I have no one to bring with me except for Lehzen. I love her dearly but I would wish for more stimulating conversations along the way. She can follow along in another chaise.”

“I see, ma’am. I shall, of course, be at your disposal. At what hour should I attend upon you, ma’am?”

“Two in the afternoon will be most satisfactory.”

“Very well, ma’am.” He bowed to her, then bowed to the Duchess of Kent who arrived just then.

“Lord Melbourne.” The Duchess forced a smile on her face. So many pairs of eyes watching her with hooded intentions, making her uncomfortable. Even after all these years, she was still not accustomed to the English court, where every word and every glance contained more layers than a _millefeuille_. 

“Thank you for your commendation, your Grace. I shall do my utmost best to service the Queen.” He gave her his warmest smile. It was one that few women could resist.

The Duchess of Kent was no exception. She nodded at him with a light rosy flush on her cheeks, then followed Victoria out of the doorway for their carriage. Her silent acceptance confirmed to everyone witnessing this exchange that Victoria did make Melbourne her private secretary at the Duchess of Kent’s recommendation. Has the Duchess changed her mind about regency, decided to align herself differently now that her daughter is on the throne? Much thought will be spent on speculation, plans overturned by this development.

Victoria’s satisfaction was tinged with annoyance. _Conroy must remain,_ she decided. She had always meant to keep Conroy around longer to distract Stockmar and draw attention away from Lord M, but now she found one more use for him - he had to stay to keep Mama’s interest from turning to Lord M.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

At two o’clock, Melbourne showed up at Kensington Palace with two chaises. Victoria was waiting on the stairs with a disgruntled looking Lehzen. Clair stood close by, holding her mistress’s wrap. The Duchess of Kent was taking her customary nap. Once she was out of the way, no one could stop Victoria from venturing out. Lehzen was torn between a sense of duty and her love for ‘Drina, her daughter in everything but blood. Of course moving to Buckingham House would be a welcomed change, but why did ‘Drina have to go see for herself and she had to go with that disreputable man? Lehzen was resolved to place herself between that Melbourne and her ‘Drina as much as possible, not giving him a chance to corrupt an innocent girl. 

Her look of disapproval only deepened when she saw the chaises. These open-air carriage seemed to have been designed with propriety in mind, with no concealment on any side. But look at how narrow they were! Two people would be wedged side by side, leaving barely any space between them.

Melbourne jumped down from the chaise, kissed Victoria’s proffered hand. “Your Majesty.” He murmured. Then he turned to Lehzen with a charming smile, “Baroness, you look well.” 

“Lord Melbourne.” Lehzen responded with a stiff curtsy. She would be one of the few in the world unmoved by Melbourne’s charm. 

“Shall we?” Melbourne extended an inviting arm towards the chaises, but did not follow behind Victoria immediately. He fully understood Lehzen’s concerns and respected them. 

Without giving him another glance, Lehzen walked towards the second chaise. They both understood that it would be a public insult for the Queen to ride with her chaperone, leaving the Prime Minister to ride in a separate chaise with the maid. However, the illusion of choice was a courtesy that Lehzen recognized and her displeasure was slightly appeased. 

Victoria watched the silent scene fondly. One thing she appreciated deeply about Lord M was his understanding of her need for Lehzen. When Albert told her Lord M urged Albert to dismiss Lehzen immediately upon his departure as the Prime Minister [1], she was initially furious and deeply hurt by this betrayal. However, when Albert ended up not following this advice, she finally understood. Lord M knew that by counseling Albert to act rashly, Albert would actually grow suspicious of this advice and consider it a ploy to discredit himself in her eyes. His plan succeeded in keeping Lehzen by her side for a bit longer, until her own weakness allowed Lehzen to be driven away. A momentary pain pierced her heart. She failed his expectations of her. Almost gasping out loud, she shut her eyes tight, willing herself to calm down. _That was the past, that was all over and done with. He is here, he is right here…_

“Are you alright, ma’am?” His velvet voice sounded by her ear, raising her spirits.

Her breath slowed and she softly opened her eyes. Turning slightly, she gave him a weak smile, shook her head. “It was nothing. Just tired.”

“You did have a long day, ma’am.” 

“There is so much to do.”

“Yes, but nothing that cannot wait. You mustn’t let the weight of responsibility crush your spirit, ma’am.”

“How do you do it, Lord M? You are the Prime Minister. The weight of the country rests on your shoulders.”

He chuckled a bit at that, cocked his head to look at her. “Only temporarily, ma’am. That is my reprieve.”

“That’s an unkind thing to say, Lord M. You are so eager to leave Our service?”

“That’s not what I meant, ma’am.” For once, he seemed chagrined at his choice of words. “This is the beauty of our constitutional system, ma’am. The Prime Minister serves at your pleasure, with the support of his friends and the Houses. He does not arrive there by his own merit alone. When that support is withdrawn, so comes the end of his time, for another to take his place. Therefore, The will of many is executed in turns, the weight of responsibility is shared by many, for a period of time.. To believe otherwise is to carry the entire Government with only one set of shoulders. Duke of Wellington walked that path and the results dismayed him.” He sighed. “Ma’am, your path is of an entirely different nature.”

“I know. I will be God’s anointed. There is no other path for me.” The words came out bleaker than she expected. 

His voice was gentle, meant to comfort but also to instruct. “Which is why your view of time must be longer than ours, ma’am. You represent the enduring spirit of the state. We look to you for guidance on the ultimate good for people, that which must remain constant as Governments come and go.” He saw her wince slightly and his heart went out to her, but he had faith she would not shy away from that truth. “The expectation is weighty. Some have chosen to shirk from it, but you, ma’am, I do not see you making that choice.”

His words filled her with a sudden longing to rest her weary head on his shoulders, but Lehzen was behind them, watching. So she settled for a subtle shift of weight, no more than a slight lean that allowed her shoulder to rest against his momentarily. For a distance, that would look like an occasional bump caused by the uneven road surface. 

He felt her close and did not draw away. Instead, he shifted his posture from a relaxed lounging to be more upright, so his shoulder can remain steady against hers. _So very young, so very alone, and so very strong._

In this companionable silence, they arrived at Buckingham House.

\--------------------------------------------------------------

It was just as she remembered, just dirtier. Lord Uxbridge, the Lord Chamberlain and a neighbor of Lord M’s Brockett Hall (oh how she longed to visit it properly this time!), greeted them. His calm was soon shattered because the moment she arrived, she informed him of her intention to move here within a week. He almost spluttered in indignation. Melbourne, playing the dutiful private secretary, immediately intercepted his objections and started to discuss with him the details of prepping. One would assume that he was most familiar with running a household, but Victoria knew from anecdotes she heard over the years that his South End residence in London was quite haphazard. _He cared more about my comfort than his own_ , she thought with great pleasure. Lehzen was also drawn to the conversation, unwilling to relinquish her role as the head of the Queen’s household. Three of them deep in discussion gave Victoria the freedom to explore. 

She thought she would see old ghosts here, but perhaps because the place was so empty, it was hard for her to connect it with the Buckingham House in her memory. She wandered further through the rooms, deciding that this time, she would move into the North wing instead. Both sets of apartments mirror each other regardless, so her comfort would not be diminished. She grudgingly admitted a long time ago that Albert greatly improved the quality of her living quarters. The sharpest reminder at this moment was the lack of water closets. The architects that built this house with lavish decorations and windows galore (that would not open) never considered the basic convenience of a modern life. After living for decades in hygienic conditions, the thought of using those dark and ill-ventilated spaces filled her with dread and disgust. Her decree of “we need water closets, including in staff quarters, because they need to live cleanly to service us well” drove the trio’s discussion to another level of frenzy. 

The debate went on and on, until an agreement was agreed - yes, the House would be made ready for the Queen in a week’s time. No, the installation of water closets could not be considered at this time, but investigations would be made. When Melbourne went around to find the Queen to give her this news, he found her in the throne room. She was sitting on the old throne that looked too big for her, with her tiny feet dangling inches above the floor. 

“Lord M, I really must have a new throne. This would never do.” She kicked her feet in the air to make her point. The large room made her voice sound small, vulnerable. The undignified position in an oversized throne gave her an almost doll-like appearance. That likeness would have been perfect if she wasn’t wearing mourning black. There was something familiar about this scene. _Did the Queen have dolls?_ The thought suddenly rose in his mind, unbidden. She seemed so much like a little girl that for a moment, Melbourne almost couldn’t recognize her. Queen, young woman, little girl...she was all of them at once and none of them either.

“I already instructed Uxbridge to commandeer a new one with your monogram, ma’am. Your household should be ready to move in in a week. The water closets though, would require many months.” Melbourne offered apologetically at her grimace. His own South End residence while being of humbler appearance had no lack of such conveniences. His preference for daily bath made those requirements being of top consideration, unlike his many peers who preferred grandeur over comfort.

“Another cross to bear.” She muttered sulkily under breath. 

“Excuse me, ma’am?”

“I said I appreciate the efforts, Lord M. I expect I will be moving first. Mama may require more time, if she is so inclined.” Victoria shuffled a bit, trying to get off from the high seat as gracefully as possible. 

Melbourne stepped up naturally to offer her his hand. “The Duchess of Kent will be reluctant to leave your side, ma’am.”

She held his hand and clasped it tight for a moment for leverage. She could feel the heat from his hand and wondered if he could feel her pounding through hers. “It will be just for a few days.”

When she released his hand, it was as if something precious was taken from his palm. “Shall we go see the private apartments?”

“Yes. I’d like to see the North wing.”

A quick tour with Uxbridge showed her everything was in order, just showing a bit of age. Lehzen immediately started making a list of demands to poor Uxbridge about changing the decor to meet the Queen’s preferences. Victoria looked around, noting suitable areas to hang paintings. She intended to rebuild her collection of Lord M’s portraits. Looking at a wall in the antechamber, she remembered this was where she hung a portrait of him that she obtained unknown to him. [2] _The last sitting he did before he…_

“Your uncle George had a great collection of paintings, but I believe this belonged to your uncle William.” Melbourne said behind her. 

She turned around, saw him nodding towards the painting of a pretty lady holding a mask, alluding to her being a muse, hanging on the wall that she was contemplating. [3]

“That comic muse bears a strong resemblance to Mrs Jordan.”

“Mrs Jordan?” She couldn’t remember hearing of this person, but then again, too many names had been uttered in her presence. 

“She was close to your Uncle William for twenty odd years, before he married Queen Adelaide.” Melbourne’s tone alluded to something richer than a mere acquaintance. 

“....Oh! They were very close?”

“Ten children close, ma’am. Though he had to distance her in order to marry.”

“I had no idea!”

“Those would not be things someone would share with a young lady, but would be appropriate information for a monarch.”

“So why would her portrait be here?”

“It was said that even after their separation, he was still collecting portraits of hers. No one really knew where the collection was. I think we have found one.” Mistaking the look of shock on her face, he hurried to add, “I’m sure it is nothing more than nostalgia, ma’am. He was quite devoted to Queen Adelaide, as you are well aware.”

 _Some things do run true through blood!_ As they walked away, she could not help but reflect, “I do not wish to speak ill of my uncle. Still, to separate from her after such a long time together seemed...unnecessary.”

“The responsibility of the crown, ma’am. He was obligated to marry to beget an heir.” Melbourne explained, aware that the conversation was heading towards a delicate area. “Though that was not meant to be. Or perhaps it was meant to be, so we may benefit from your presence.” He recovered with a courtier’s ease.

“Poor Mrs Jordan.” Victoria shook her head. _Companionship is not an adequate option._

Melbourne was saved from having to respond by the appearance of Uxbridge and Lehzen, the former looked just as relieved as Melbourne felt.

“Ma’am, I hope the rooms are to your satisfaction? The good Baroness has given me _greatly detailed_ instructions on how to furnish them.”

“Yes, they are very satisfactory. In fact, I find them so pleasing that I’d like for you to prepare a similar suite of apartments for the Duchess of Kent in the South wing. I want dear Mama to have every comfort as I do.” 

Uxbridge looked surprised by this arrangement, but seeing the unwavering calm on Victoria’s face, he bowed and acknowledged, “Very well, ma’am.”

“Thank you very much, Lord Chamberlain. I look forward to making here my home in a week.”

“It is our honor to serve, Your Majesty.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel I have to apologize for the slow burn...I promise the timeline will flow faster from here onwards! (I hope).  
> I appreciate your indulgence and as usual, your comments give me the confidence to keep writing.  
> Many, many thank yous for reading this.
> 
> [1] Memorandum by Mr. Anson. Windsor Castle, Aug 29, 1841  
> "Lord Melbourne said that the Prince had also entered upon the subject of the Baroness, and expressed the constant state of annoyance he was kept in by her interference. Lord Melbourne said to me: "It will be far more difficult to remove her after the change of Government than now, because if pressed to do it by a Tory Minister, the Queen's prejudice would be immediately aroused." I admitted this, but said that though the Prince felt that if he pressed the point against the Baroness remaining, he should be able to carry it, still his good feeling and affection for the Queen prevented him from pressing what he knew would be painful, and what could not be carried without an exciting scene; he must remain on his guard, and patiently abide the result. People were beginning much better to understand that lady's character, and time must surely work its own ends."
> 
> [2] Provenance info: "Painted for Queen Victoria, 1844' . The background of this painting is a group painting that Prince Albert commissioned of the Fine Arts Commission. The painter Partridge invited 4 statesmen to his studio for sitting in 1844, Lord M being one of them. Partridge produced two individual portraits as study pieces before he started on the full group painting. However, the group painting was never purchased by Prince Albert and apparently was never put on public display either. A large study portrait of Lord M remained in Partridge's studio. It is unclear how Victoria knew about this painting or how she acquired this portrait. https://www.rct.uk/collection/search#/28/collection/407263/william-lamb-2nd-viscount-melbourne-1779-1848. 
> 
> [3] Provenance info: "The painting was probably acquired by William IV who even after they had parted wanted ‘to have all the pictures of Mrs. Jordan’.' https://www.rct.uk/collection/search#/21/collection/404611/mrs-jordan-1761-1816-as-the-comic-muse


	9. Seed and ladies

Chapter 8: Seed and ladies

At breakfast the next morning, Victoria shared the good news with Mama. “Mama, you would love your new apartments. I picked them out for you myself. They had so many windows and soaring ceilings.” She took a sip of tea, pretending not to notice Mama’s furtive glance at Conroy, whose face turned an interesting shade of dark red. “Lady Flora, you must go with Lehzen to see the rooms today to decide on furnishing for Mama’s apartments. I’ve given the Lord Chamberlain clear instructions on making sure Mama’s likes are respected.” 

“Of course, Your Majesty.” Lady Flora’s normally stern face melted into a smile of delight, realizing that the Queen was acknowledging her status as the Duchess of Kent’s most trusted lady-in-waiting.

“Your Majesty has been most thoughtful.” Stockmar complimented. 

“I want Mama to have the same comforts as I do. The Buckingham House is beautifully constructed but its considerations for living quarters are sorely lacking. I cannot bear the thought of Mama to want for space.” Victoria responded, the very image of a devoted daughter.

The Duchess of Kent was torn between disbelief and relief. She had seen the rift between herself and her daughter grew day by day, at a loss on how to repair it. Now overnight, her ‘Drina no longer defied her at every turn, even spoke to her with great affection. “What rooms are they, ‘Drina?”

“A whole suite of apartments in the South wing, equal to mine in every respect, Mama.” So saying, Victoria stood up from the table. Everyone stood up with her. “I will attend to my boxes now. I will return later for luncheon.” Amidst curtsies and bows, she left the room.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Victoria left the boxes unopened, knowing Lord M would be here this morning to go through the contents with her. Until then, she should spend the time writing to Uncle Leopold, perhaps about a vist. She missed her dear uncle and seemed to remember that he was here soon after proclamation.  _ By himself only, thank God.  _ She started to rummage through the drawers to find his letters, so she could remind herself where their correspondences broke off.  _ There,  _ she thought with satisfaction. It was a folder of letters from him to her, organized by date, going all the way back to when she was little. They exchanged letters so frequently that she made a habit of putting away the most recent as well as the most important letters separately for later recall. At the very top was his letter to her when she was just ten years old. He wasn’t even the King of Belgian yet. A wave of nostalgia swept through her. It had been such a long time. Of their own accord, her eyes and hands moved in concert, leading her to read through these old letters one by one, unable to stop. 

Many of his sentences brought a smile to her face. While once she might have mistaken her feelings towards Lord M as seeing him to be  _ fatherly _ \- she shuddered at the thought - she had always known that Uncle Leopold was the father in her heart. She had never known her true father outside of his portrait and stories of valor. In Uncle Leopold though, she found the father she imagined - a strong man who loved and cherished her. She stroked the shawl wrapped around her shoulders fondly, this had been one of her favorite gifts. Many characteristics she devoted herself to acquire also came from him. Mama and Lehzen might have made the same demands, but their words fell on deaf ears. His counsel, on the other hand, she took to heart and tried to follow.  _ I was quite willful, _ she thought wistfully. Her eyes trailed to the bookshelves then smiled.  _ So very many of them were from Uncle Leopold. _ Books and biographies that he amassed for her, giving her a glimpse of great men and women of past ages. When her destiny was revealed to her, only he could offer her the answers that no tutor could. His letters and books set a path of learning under her feet that brought great comfort amidst the great turmoil of ambiguity. Because of him, she grew up convinced of her purpose and dedication to service, for which she would forever be grateful. 

At a new page, the tender smile hovering at her lips gradually faded, to be replaced with a frown.  _ What is this _ ... _ surely this....this cannot be _ . Her eyes darted to the date. August 1835. Almost two years before she became Queen. As she read on, a sense of chill gradually enveloped her. 

“I am sorry to say, with all my affection for old England, the very  _ state of its Society and politics _ renders many in that country  _ essentially humbugs and deceivers _ ; the  _ appearance _ of the thing is generally  _ more _ considered than the  _ reality _ ; provided matters go off well, and opinion may be gained, the  _ real good is matter of the most perfect indifference _ . Defend yourself, my dear love, against this system; let your dear character always be true and loyal; this does not  _ exclude prudence _ —worldly concerns are now unfortunately so organised that you  _ must be cautious _ or you may injure yourself and others—but it does not prevent the being sterling and true.“[1]

She read through them over and over again. These exact words were not in her memory, but the sentiment they represented had been with her for as long as she remembered. Her wariness against members of her Court and Government. Her frustration then suspicion of people who would not explain things to her in ways that she could grasp immediately. If it were not for Lord M, she knew she would never have developed the initial trust in her Government, let alone the mechanisms of the Constitution. After she lost Lord M as her Premier, she remembered being full of anxiety, believing political conversations always carried a layer of deceit that she was unable to decipher by herself. In her desperation, she turned to Albert, until he was king in all but name. Constantly, she struggled with this self-perceived weakness. At times she assumed it was her womanly nature to be fearful of affairs of man. Other times she thought of her anxiety as justified caution. 

This letter painted for her a different picture. A foreign seed of mistrust inserted into her thoughts bloomed, then took over, becoming her own. Planted by the man whose words shaped her young mind, bit by bit. But why? Why would he want her to doubt her own Court, her own Government, her own people?

A horrible suspicion emerged. She shook her head, trying to turn the thought away. It would be so easy to lay down this moment and carry on her day, secure in her comfort with the familiar. But... _ Can I truly pretend otherwise, now that I am aware? _ She already knew the answer. For whatever lack she might have, she never lacked for courage to keep going on. 

Many innocuous pages afterwards lulled her mind. Bits and pieces disturbed her, but she tried to explain them away.  _ Perhaps that was just a moment of passion _ .  _ Please, let it be just a moment of passion _ ...

“I do not comprehend  _ why your lot alone should be to be kept, a white little slavey in England _ , for the pleasure of the Court, who never bought you, as I am not aware of their having gone to any expense on that head, or the King's even having  _ spent a sixpence for your existence _ . “[2]

Victoria gasped at the bitterness seeping through the lines. Color faded from her cheeks, draining away her faint hope that the earlier letter was the end of the matter.

This was another letter written last year. She had no recollection of this specific letter, but she had a faint memory of wondering who the Prince of Orange was and regretted that her Uncle could not visit with her cousins. Her innocent mind would never take those words of  _ slavey _ ,  _ bought _ ,  _ pleasure of the Court _ to heart. If anything, she probably thought her Uncle was being quite ridiculous, comparing a royal Princess to a slave! However, with her new eyes and experiences of marriage arrangement, she could see clearly that his fury was due to a foiled plan - setting up her marriage to either Albert or Ernest during that trip. Realizing that King William’s ban terminated that possibility, he settled for the next course of action - continue to stir up animosity between her and the Court.

Victoria felt nauseous. Everything came together like a puzzle in her mind. A ploy set to motion years before her coming of age, to mold her like clay...to foster a suspicion of her Government...to estrange her from the English court...so she would choose a husband coined, no,  _ fathered _ , from the familiar mannerisms of her Uncle Leopold… 

Her devotion to Lord M halted the trajectory temporarily, but when she chose Albert for marriage, she also delivered Uncle Leopold’s triumph. The depth of his satisfaction must have been great, to see his ploy so many times foiled, finally fulfilled through her own choice.

Victoria buried her face in her shaking hands. She tried to claim the answer to be false, but she could not deny that  _ that _ was the shape of her life during those years. She was part of it, every step of the way. Nothing was accomplished without her acquiescence. Such was the greatest horror of all - she thought of so many reasons why she suffered those miseries, only now realizing it started from her willing imbibing of the original poison.

\-------------------------

A sharp knock at the door startled her.

“Viscount Melbourne, Your Majesty.” A footman’s voice sounded at the door.

_ Thank God it’s not Lehzen. She must be with Lady Flora now _ , she thought numbly. Using every ounce of will, she got up to stand by the study window, so she could face away from the door. “Come in.” She called, trying her best to sound as normal as possible.

Melbourne strided into the room, footsteps light despite the relatively early hours for him. He had another night of deeply restful sleep and rose even earlier in anticipation of meeting with the Queen to start her tutelage in earnest today. However, when she did not turn around to greet him, concern started to build. The footman shut the door behind him and only then did she turn. 

Upon seeing that ashen face, Melbourne’s concern turned to alarm. Before he could catch himself, he was standing right in front of her, inches apart. All thoughts of greeting were thrown out of his mind, his whole vision narrowed down to that painfully pale face. In as soft a voice as possible to avoid further distressing her, he inquired, “Ma’am, are you well?” 

Her blue eyes were wide open, staring into his, but he wasn’t sure if she was seeing him. She looked like someone who had suffered a shock to their soul. He could recognize clear as day her disbelief, her pain, as if someone she loved dearly had betrayed her. Old, wrenching pain welled up in his gut at that sight. Her lips trembled and with great effort, she managed a whisper, “Lord M…”

Suddenly, his left hand was gripped by two little hands with strength born out of desperation. He could see her eyelashes quiver, but no tears flowed. Taking a deep breath of his own, he composed his own expression to give her a reassuring smile. Carefully, he covered her hands with his right hand - they trembled like a pair of doves. Without breaking eye contact, he brought her with him to an armchair in the study. By going down on one knee in front of her, he managed to coax her to sit down, still holding her hands. Looking up at her tiny face, he soothed, “I’m here, ma’am. Everything will be fine.”

His voice and the warmth of his grip grounded her like the truth of the world. Gradually, her breath steadied. She closed her eyes and nodded, indicating that she was feeling more like herself and relaxed the death grip she had on his hand. Sensing her recovery, Melbourne also naturally lifted up her right hand for a bowed kiss, as if all that took place was a customary courier’s greeting. 

Rising easily to his feet, he assumed a waiting position with hands clasped behind his back, while unnoticeably stepped back to allow for the appropriate distance. He could feel little crescents left on the back of his hand, burning slightly like kitten’s claws. Patiently, he waited for her to speak first as was expected of a subject attending his monarch. His hooded eyes lazily scanned the room, feigning polite distraction, both to avoid staring at her but also looking for possible cause to her distress. A sheaf of letters scattered on the desk caught his attention. The clearly legible signature gave away the writer’s identity. What could have King Leopold written that would disturb his Queen so profoundly?

“Lord M, I regret you had to witness my momentary lapse.” Victoria swallowed hard, trying to restore her poise. How could she explain away what transpired? 

“Oh, there’s nothing to apologize for, ma’am.” He replied in an intentionally casual tone. “I applaud your enthusiasm for learning about statecraft, ma’am. There are many important topics we can cover today.” Melbourne considered his gentlemanly duty to make up an excuse to overlook the moment, if she was so inclined. He knew too well from personal experience that unwelcomed inquisitivity could be more unforgivable than the original infliction. 

At his tactful suggestion, Victoria relaxed, grateful that he did not pursue further. She wanted to explain, but she had no words. After all, nothing had come to pass yet. At most, it would just be a piece of prejudiced mentoring from an uncle to his niece, and an overly passionate complaint of a perceived slight. She needed more time. “Thank you, Lord M. It was just a moment of nerves. What shall we start from today?”

Melbourne pursed his lips in thought. The election or the King’s funeral arrangement would be woefully wrong. Canada continued to be an important matter, but perhaps they should wait.  _ Ah _ . “Your Majesty, we should discuss the appointment of your ladies in waiting.” He was rewarded by the gleam of interest returning to her eyes.

“Do you have any suggestion?”

“I have a few thoughts, yes. Your Mistress of the Robes needs to be a Duchess, and you also need at least four Ladies of Bedchamber, four Women of Bechamber, and four Maids of Honor. If Your Majesty desires, you can also appoint extra ladies to walk, bath, feed, and kiss Dash.” He quipped in a liliting tone to show that he was teasing.

The mention of Dash made her grin. “Lord M, Dash already has me as his lady-in-waiting.”

Melbourne chuckled, relieved that her spirit was restored. “Very well, I shall mark that post as occupied in my roster. Do you have any specific lady you want to bring into your household, ma’am?”

“I might, Lord M. I want to obtain her acceptance before I divulge her name though.”

“As you wish, ma’am. For the others, shall I draw up a list and send it to you for approval?”

“That would be excellent, Lord M. I have but one request.” 

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Please include one or two Tory ladies.”

Melbourne did not hide his surprise. 

Victoria noting his expression, pressed for an explanation. “You appear to be quite surprised, Lord M. Is my preference so widely known?”

Melbourne exhibited what Victoria could only describe as an impish grin, looking surprisingly boyish as he did so.  _ And handsome... _ Victoria could feel her heart skip a little faster.

“Well, not widely known, ma’am, but you did commend Palmerston and Russell for their efforts on deterring the Tories on the Spanish question when you met them in the Drawing Room a few months ago.” [3]

“And you remembered?” Victoria asked with curiosity. That day’s tension etched deeply into her memory. The possibility of a regency was hanging over her head, held by the tenuous thread of her Uncle William’s faltering vitality. The normally sparse Drawing Room was more crowded by his unspoken attempt to introduce her to her future Ministry. She remembered feeling gauche because the Court’s eyes turned to her in a manner she was ill-prepared for. She also remembered seeing Lord M and thought that he would not be unpleasant to spend time with.  _ That was quite an understatement _ , her eyes creased in amusement with the recollection.

Melbourne chuckled lightly. “You were delightfully memorable, ma’am. I hope that day was equally pleasing to you?”

“I only remember seeing you there.” Victoria replied truthfully, then belatedly realized she might have revealed more than she intended. A full blush crept upon her cheeks. 

Mistaking her blush for embarrassment about her imperfect recollection, Melbourne readily returned to their original discussion, “It is a wise choice to include Tory ladies within your retinue, ma’am. I applaud you for the foresight.”

“Were you going to? Recommend them, I mean.” Victoria asked.

Melbourne hesitated for a moment, then answered honestly, “No, ma’am, I would not have included them if you had not asked.”

“Why not?”

This time, Melbourne hesitated longer, then he squared his shoulders as if he made up his mind. “I consider your wellbeing and comfort as paramount on this matter, ma’am, so my recommendation would be of those who I trust to provide you with the most disinterested advice and pleasantest company.”

“You do not trust the Tory ladies?” Victoria persisted.

“I do not know them well enough, ma’am.” Melbourne corrected her gently.

“I see. Wouldn’t this cast doubt on your intentions? Surrounding me with only Whig ladies?” This was something that she had wanted to ask ever since those rumors reached her ears in the past.

“Doubts would be casted regardless of my intentions. I have long since learned not to mind others’ doubts, so long as I am certain of worthiness in my actions.”

“I am not sure if my comfort justifies such a risk, Lord M.”

“Trust me, ma’am. This is not a new risk, if it could even be considered as a risk.” Melbourne said dryly. 

Victoria feigned ignorance. She too, could be patient, for him to open up to her at the right moment. “Even so, the risk need not exist. I may find good company in the Tory ladies you recommend, Lord M. If not, I’m sure there will be ways to manage.”

“I have no doubt of your resourcefulness, ma’am. Now, shall we get started on the boxes?”

“If you insist, Lord M.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, I thank you very much for reading this story and look forward to your comments. 
> 
> This was a hard chapter for me to write because I wanted to tie together my personal interpretation of the influences - both positive and negative - that Leopold exerted over little Victoria, with the storyline that I can see unfurling, without bogging it down with too much explanation. Please let me know if it worked for you. I also hope you find the chain of events I'm trying to piece together to be within the realm of possibility and would be willing to read on further. 
> 
> Any guess on who Victoria wants to add into her household?:)
> 
> BTW, I so want to slap Leopold into next century or two. "White little slavey" indeed!! *whack*
> 
> [1] This letter was written on August 3, 1835.  
> [2] This letter was written on May 13th, 1836. Leopold was MAD! And he knew what he had to say was dodgy. 
> 
> "My dearest Child,—I got this time a very small letter from your good little Ladyship, and I shall repay it probably in larger coin, as my letter going through a messenger of my own will become longer, as it will be more confidential than through the usual mode of conveyance.
> 
> I am really astonished at the conduct of your old Uncle the King; this invitation of the Prince of Orange and his sons, this forcing him upon others, is very extraordinary.4 It is so, [page 48]because persons in political stations and champions of great political passions cannot put aside their known character as you would lay your hat upon a table.
> 
> Not later than yesterday I got a half official communication from England, insinuating that it would be highly desirable that the visit of your relatives should not take place, this year—qu'en dites-vous? The relations of the Queen and the King, therefore, to the God-knows-what degree, are to come in shoals and rule the land, when your relations are to be forbidden the country, and that when, as you know, the whole of your relations have ever been very dutiful and kind to the King. Really and truly I never heard or saw anything like it, and I hope it will a little rouse your spirit; now that slavery is even abolished in the British Colonies, I do not comprehend why your lot alone should be to be kept, a white little slavey in England, for the pleasure of the Court, who never bought you, as I am not aware of their having gone to any expense on that head, or the King's even having spent a sixpence for your existence. I expect that my visits in England will also be prohibited by an Order in Council. Oh consistency and political or other honesty, where must one look for you!
> 
> I have not the least doubt that the King, in his passion for the Oranges, will be excessively rude to your relations; this, however, will not signify much; they are your guests and not his, and will therefore not mind it...."
> 
> [3] This was from a letter Victoria sent to Leopole on May 3, 1837. According to the parliament records, the Spanish debate at the upper house took place on April 21. It was a very exciting night - our Lord M and Duke of Wellington engaged in a lengthy verbal spar, supported by Holland + Minto vs Aberdeen respectively. As you can see in the letter, Victoria already favored Lord M in her observations.:)
> 
> "... You may depend upon it that I shall profit by your excellent advice respecting Politics. Pray, dear Uncle, have you read Lord Palmerston's speech concerning the Spanish affairs,38 which he delivered the night of the division on Sir Henry Hardinge's motion? It is much admired. The Irish Tithes question came on last night in the House of Commons, and I am very anxious for the morning papers, to see what has been done. Lord Melbourne looks remarkably well, Lord Palmerston not very well, and as for poor little Lord John Russell, he is only a shadow of himself. It must be dreadfully fagging work for them; they sit so very late too, for when the Spanish question came on, the division only took place at four o'clock in the morning, and I saw them at the Drawing-Room the same day afterwards...."


	10. Women of the household - part 1

Chapter 9: The Women of the Household - part 1

Uncle Leopold’s ploy weighed heavy on Victoria’s mind. She poured over those letters again, torn between wishing she was reading too much into the words and feeling perhaps there was much she missed, blinded by youth and inexperience. It was a struggle that she did not feel equipped to face. If she made it wait, perhaps she would see a clearer path. A dry voice at the back of her mind chucked ironically at the thought, but she suppressed it with determination.  _ I would not be rushed into making a decision, one way or another _ , she told herself firmly. 

The first thing to do though, was to delay her uncle’s visit. That afternoon, she sent word to Lord Chamberlain that she wanted to make sure the Buckingham House was perfect for both herself and the Duchess of Kent. To which he responded, he needed three more weeks. Apparently the Duchess had been most precise in her preferences. She gladly accepted his explanation and commended him on his thoroughness. When Stockmar next insinuated that perhaps she should extend an invitation to King Leopold, she regretfully informed him that she really could not consider entertaining when both her mother and herself were not situated in Buckingham House yet. It would be such an embarrassment not being able to receive her uncle in state as befitting their shared royal prestige. Surely her uncle would not want to deprive his sister of the opportunity to commission everything to her exacting standards. Mama expressed dismay at the prospect of not being able to complete the renovations she arranged for herself and others. Stcokmar accepted the delay with a grimace-like smile, but made no further objection. 

Lord M arrived the next day as usual. As her private secretary, he was intimately familiar with her discussions with the Lord Chamberlain. If he suspected its cause, he gave no indication. Instead, he proposed that if she would like to spend some time to prepare for her transition in station and household, the next few weeks would be an optimal opportunity. Lack of significant bills at this moment meant a lighter box. He himself would take this opportunity to rally the Whigs in hope of securing a strong majority in both Houses. 

“I still expect to see you on most days, Lord M.” she told him. 

“I shall do the best I can, ma’am,” he responded, which was not the answer she wanted to hear. 

Irritated, she snapped, “Is Our business not your foremost priority, Lord Melbourne?”

His brows gathered slightly at this and he gave her a quizzical look, as if trying to discern why her mood darkened. When she did not offer further explanation, he bowed slightly and replied, “I shall make myself available at your disposal, ma’am.” The concerned yet indulgent look he gave her made her immediately ashamed of her outburst, at the same time felt deeply soothed. 

The new routine soon settled in. Morning for doing boxes with Lord M, afternoon spent on walks with Lehzen and Dash, and evening with the household or theater. With her renewed energy, London theater houses offered much distraction. She did try to probe Stockmar for more clues on the true intention of his King’s visit, but whether there was nothing more to divulge or because he was too crafty at hiding the truth, she got no more from him. Not that she expected otherwise. Stockmar had no lack of circumspect wiliness, which he demonstrated well through ingratiating himself first with Lord M then with Robert Peel. Both, she saw in hindsight, was only possible because of her dependency on first Uncle Leopold, then on both him and Albert for political counsel. If she would limit her correspondence with Uncle Leopold, she would limit Stockmar’s influence over the Government. So it all came back to the original question - was Uncle Leopold trustworthy? The next act started, her attention returned once more to the stage.

This evening, she was sitting at the whist table, playing with Mama, Conroy, and Lady Mary. She noticed that the semblance of domestic tranquility did much to sooth Mama’s anxiety and pride. When she offered to stay for the evening’s entertainment, the joy on Mama’s face shone as a star.  _ She was afraid of losing me _ , Victoria realized with a wave of tenderness. Having been a mother herself, she understood so much better the sometimes unreasonable, even illogical concern over a child’s wellbeing. Mama, who was weaker in nature and had few she could trust to turn to, did much wrong but with the intention of doing right. Victoria dealt another card, intended on letting Mama win this hand. 

She could feel Conroy’s glance towards her and fended off his few questions about the current state of Canada with ease, even returned with a question about the size of artillery stationed in Canada on both sides that she knew he would not be able to answer. With her own experience and Lord M’s clear articulation, what once would send her into a state of defensiveness, she now waved past with a nonchalant glance. It was easy for her to show his ignorance and her knowledge, but in the past it was quite the reverse. Dash frolicked at her feet until she picked him up and stroked his soft ears. All was well, then Stockmar arrived with a letter for her from Uncle Leopold. She accepted it with a smile, promising to read it the next morning. No one could tell how cold her hands turned. She could avoid his visit, but not his letters.

‘’Drina, do be a dear and read it now and let us know what Leopold said.”

“Mama, I’m sure there’s a letter waiting for you from Uncle. He never writes to me without writing to you as well.” Victoria soothed. “Besides, I have a slight headache. I’d like to retire for the evening. Lord Stockmar, would you be so kind to take my place and keep Mama company?” Without giving others a chance to protest, she rose up and left the room, Lehzen following behind her. 

She waved away Mrs. Jenkins, content with Clair’s basic administrations to help her turn in for the night. Dash slipped in with her under the coverlet, his small warm body kept her company. Taking the letter with her to bed, Victoria debated if she should delay the letter until tomorrow morning, but finally acknowledged that she was avoiding the resolution. This period of time had been most unlike her and now her natural impatience reasserted itself. She broke open the seal wax. Part of her wondering briefly if Stockmar had read about its contents. Most likely he would have been given a way to know of its contents regardless, being deep in her Uncle’s confidence. She read by the candlelight, a dark stain of deep shadows oozing out beneath the warm golden glow. 

_ “...Before you decide on anything important I should be glad if you would consult me; this would also have the advantage of giving you time. _ ”[1]

She blew out the candle, but sleep and warmth eluded until the crack of dawn. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

Victoria missed breakfast, pleading a lingering headache. When she finally rose, dark circles under her eyes and throbbing temples lent credibility to her excuse. Through habit, she found her way into the study, even though Lord M already let her know the previous day that he would not be attending her today. The boxes would still be there though.  _ At least one could always count on the predictability of bureaucracy,  _ Victoria thought with dark humor. She went through the motion of managing the boxes, disposing of the mundane appointments with greater alacrity than when Lord M was present. Partially it was because she had to conceal from him the ease that grew out from decades of the same considerations, but mostly because she spent most of the time conversing with him, observing him. Right now though, not even the thought of Lord M could bring a smile. She just felt fatigued. Uncle Leopold’s letter laid silent on her desk, his elegant handwriting demanded her attention, but she could not muster the effort to even consider her next move. Chess had never been her game, especially this one playing on her affections and trust. 

By the time Lady Flora found her, she was in a foul mood, embroiled in a swirl of bitterness and suspicion. 

“Good morning, Your Majesty.” Lady Flora curtsied formally. 

“What do you want?”

Lady Flora raised her eyes in surprise. This was a side of Victoria she had never seen. She had seen her sullen, bright, courteous, even remote, but at this moment, she seemed...foreboding. Suppressing her sudden sense of trepidation, Lady Flora carefully laid a small envelope on Victoria’s desk. “I think Your Majesty might be considering ladies for your household. I have put together a few names, all ladies from reputable families for your consideration.”

Victoria did not touch the envelope, just looked straight at Lady Flora from where she was seated. Lady Flora did her best to keep her poise, but her hold on the cross tightened until whites were showing on her knuckles. The weight in that look landed on her like boulders, crushing her. Finally, Victoria spoke again. “Why?”

“Because I think Your Majesty knew few people from the Court. I want to offer to Your Majesty what little I knew.”

Victoria narrowed her eyes. “Why should I trust your recommendation over Lord Melbourne’s?”

Spots of color flushed Lady Flora’s cheeks. “I beg your pardon, ma’am, but I do not consider Lord Melbourne to be a good judgment of character, much less of a lady’s reputation!”

“You believe you are a good judge of character?” Seeing Lady Flora’s firm nod, Victoria gave her a little smile. “Very well, judge for me Sir John’s character.”

Lady Flora frowned. “Ma’am?”

“You claim to be a good judge of character and care deeply about reputation. Then tell me of your judgement of Sir John’s.” Victoria’s smile turned bleak. “Otherwise, how would I know if I can trust you? After all, you supported the Kensington System.”

Lady Flora’s spine stiffened. She drew herself up tall and straight, spoke in a quiet but dignified voice. “Yes, ma’am, I did, but my reasons were entirely different from Sir John Conroy’s.”

Victoria arched an eyebrow.

“I have no knowledge of how the system operated in your youth, ma’am, but you were barely fifteen when I joined Her Grace’s household. You were at the most precarious age, both fragility in health and reputation could ruin your destiny. I saw it as my utmost duty and loyalty to keep you from both harm, ma’am. While it coincided with Sir Conroy’s actions, I do not support his aspirations nor share his illusions.”

“What illusions would those be?” Victoria asked blandly.

“That you needed a regent, ma’am. I believe you are in need of good advice, but you are equal to the task God has appointed you. ” Her eyes shone with fervor. “God’s plan for me on this earth is to ensure you arrive safely at His feet to be His anointed choice. I would endure anything to do His will.”

“Even going against Mama and Sir John’s wishes?”

“That has always been true, ma’am, as God is my witness.” Lady Flora allowed herself a grim but satisfied smile. “I need no other.”

“You seem to be suggesting that you have been serving my interest without my knowledge, Lady Flora.”

“Those papers of private secretary appointment never appeared again in front of Your Majesty’s eyes, until Your Majesty could halt the attempt once and for all.”

It was true. After that failed episode of trying to force her in her sickness to sign documents that would appoint Conroy to be her private secretary, it seemed to be the end of that matter. She always thought it was because she made her will clear to everyone, but the resumed attempts in days immediately after her ascension until Lord M’s appointment did prove to be contrary. “It seemed that I owe you some gratitude, Lady Flora.”

“No, ma’am. You owe me nothing. You owe it to God to be the Queen that will bring glory to England, as Queen Elizabeth once did.”

Looking deep into the young woman’s eyes, Victoria could read her determination and her belief in her own words. Lady Flora was wholeheartedly convinced that she was helping Victoria being a Queen that would answer to none but God. Would this be another matter that she was gravely wrong on? It seemed to be a recurring theme these days. One after another, these realizations eroded her sense of control. She thought by knowing how the future had turned out, she could change it with a firm hand at the tiller. Now she realized much of the undercurrents that steered her life was surging without her awareness. These discoveries filled her with both renewed determination and dread. In the meanwhile, Lady Flora stood in front of her, waiting for her next move. 

Victoria nodded slowly. She intended this to be an offhanded grace, much like an alm handed out to the poor, but that arrogance was wrong of her in light of this new understanding. She needed to reconsider her offer. “Very well. You have made a convincing case for yourself, Lady Flora. You may keep your list of nominated names, I have no use for them.” Victoria gave in to her pettiness towards Flora Hastings one last time.  _ From this moment on, I consider us even _ , she said to Lady Flora silently. Suddenly, air came more easily to her lungs. She was pleased to see that flicker of dismay and anger smoothed away as quickly as it appeared. Lady Flora was as consummate a courier as she claimed herself to be.  _ Yes, this could work very nicely for us both _ . “I have no use for them,” she repeated, “because I will have you.” 

Flora’s eyes widened, lips slightly parted, as comprehension slowly dawned on her. Victoria gave her that moment. Finally, Flora found her voice again. “Me, ma’am?”

“Yes, Lady Flora. You will be a Woman of the Bedchamber to me. Or, if Mama truly cannot spare you, you can be an Extra Woman of the Bedchamber, but compensated of course. I’m sure I can make an arrangement work between myself and Mama.”

Flora hesitated, then blurted out, “If I may speak freely, ma’am?”

“You will always have my leave to speak freely, until I inform you otherwise, Lady Flora.” Victoria said with an ironic smile. “Speak your mind.”

“Why the offer, ma’am? I presumed you would prefer ladies with...different connections.” Flora asked as subtly as possible. 

“You are of the connections I need, Lady Flora. You are from a Tory family. Don’t look so surprised, I am well aware of that. Lord Melbourne did not fail to impress me the importance for the Queen to appear above partisans, so I consider it beneficial to have ladies of both parties in my household. Another reason is that since you just expressed to me how well you have served in my interest in the past, I find no reason not to have you continue in the same capacity.” Victoria gave Lady Flora a meaningful look, pleased how quickly comprehension flooded over her face. “WIth my full awareness, though.” She continued to look pointedly at Lady Flora, until the latter bowed her head and gave a deep courtesy.

“It is my honor to serve, Your Majesty.”

“Excellent. Now, you can start by telling me of all the modifications to Buckingham House that Mama has requested. “

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] - Letter from King Leopold to Queen Victoria, June 23, 1837  
> The letter started with - "My beloved Child,—Your new dignities will not change or increase my old affection for you; may Heaven assist you, and may I have the happiness of being able to be of use to you, and to contribute to those successes in your new career for which I am so anxious. ". Then it ended with "4. Before you decide on anything important I should be glad if you would consult me; this would also have the advantage of giving you time. In politics most measures will come in time within a certain number of days; to retrace or back out of a measure is on the contrary extremely difficult, and almost always injurious to the highest authority." 
> 
> I think Regina got it right! Yes, the mysterious person Victoria had in mind is Lady Flora, who in turn had a surprise for Victoria! Poor Victoria, she thought she knew the questions to the test, but now the test is tripping her up!
> 
> I'm so very very sorry for the short chapter and the long delay. I rewrote this chapter a few times and crazy life hours are making writing harder than before, but I hope to get the story to a different place by the end of this year!!
> 
> As usual, your comments and kudos are most heart felt appreciated. I feel so very, very accountable to you.  
> May a brighter future shine on us, now and beyond.


End file.
